#to the person who they reblogged it from. skedaddle. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

collinnmckinley · 1 year ago

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wow. you have issues.

(1) telling people to “seek God” and assuming people are religious and believe in that? yikes. red flag.

(2) you’re literally shaming people for having a libido and engaging with sexual content in their own private lives, and having some fun—that’s another red flag and not cool. you clearly have some internalized issues with sex lol.

(3) it’s fucking FICTIONAL CONTENT, what the fuck is so wrong with liking fictional characters and wanting to talk about it? you don’t get to dictate and control what other people look at online. telling people to “seek God/help” for experiencing attraction to a character and reading fics??? wtf is wrong with you? extreme much? like this has to be satire, you can’t be fucking serious. that’s the kind of shit you say to a pedophile, or a rapist, or a murderer, or a bigot actively trying to ruin someone’s life, not some random person reading some fanfiction.

fuck you and your gifsets. I’ve followed and supported you for YEARS, but nah, you can go fuck yourself. I’ve seen you being a bitch to your own followers and people who support your content over and over, treating them like shit, having a conniption fit because people comment IN THE TAGS of a reblog of one of your gifsets or bc someone thirsted over a hot fictional guy from a game you also play. ‘god’ forbid anybody do anything outside of your ridiculous ruleset and dictatorship or they’re “not allowed to follow your precious public blog!” fucking private/password your blog then. stop making gifs. leave.

you’re on Tumblr dot com, a public website where the whole point of it is to reblog and add on commentary! people have every right to say something, and why WOULDN’T you want people to compliment the gifs or you or thank you for them? why in your mind are people “not allowed” to talk about their fav character in a gifset? you’re the only person out of THOUSANDS I’ve ever seen in the past 10 years bitching about people commenting on content here. at least people reblogged your shit, you ungrateful fuck.

you come off as a narcissistic, entitled, spoiled brat and have some serious anger issues. you’re the one that needs help, and not from some magical guy in the sky. get off Tumblr. you’d be doing the site a favour. one less dickhead amongst the circus.

“dni if you read fics!!!!!” that’s a new one. 😂🤡

holyshit what did I wake up to... lets go through this- whatever this is point by point shall we... cause I have a lot to say. buckle up!

first of all, yes I have issues, didn't I make it as clear as a sunny fucking day? everything I say or do, I bitch about it and I talk shit about it here. I legit don't care about what people say or think about me, I'm past that point in my life. tumblr drama? what is this? 2018?2019? grow the fuck up. I didn't make this blog for aesthetics and to coddle everyone who follows me. you like my content? I appreciate the shit out of you. you dont? I cant force you to like my posts nor gifs. but my blog my rules, dont like it? skedaddle.

"(1) telling people to “seek God” and assuming people are religious and believe in that? yikes. red flag." what of it even if someone didn't have religious beliefs? when I say that I mean get fucking cleansed you filthy bitches cause yall need to after consuming/create that type of media.

but no, all that bullshit going on on this fucking site that I've mentioned and you're worried about me pushing religious beliefs on people? and just basically say 'you're telling people to seek god? what if they dont believe in one? ugh so offensive' is kind of dumb really.

"(3) it’s fucking FICTIONAL CONTENT, what the fuck is so wrong with liking fictional characters and wanting to talk about it? you don’t get to dictate and control what other people look at online. telling people to “seek God/help” for experiencing attraction to a character and reading fics??? wtf is wrong with you? extreme much? like this has to be satire, you can’t be fucking serious. that’s the kind of shit you say to a pedophile, or a rapist, or a murderer, or a bigot actively trying to ruin someone’s life, not some random person reading some fanfiction." I never mentioned anything about liking a fictional character, or talked shit about someone liking one or reading fanfictions, did I go around and say 'oh you like ghost? fuck you you dont get to like him and read fanfics about him'. you missed every damn post I made. me ranting werent about people liking the characters or reading fanfics, my problem was with people consuming and creating the filthy, degenerate, pervy content made for the characters that I love.

and for fucks sake I talk about how I'm in love with fictional characters, you say you followed me for 'years and YEARS' yet you couldn't really understand the whole shtick of this blog, like the dumbass you are. I made this blog to rant and solely talk about how much I'm in love with fictional characters! and I go out of my way to seek out fanfictions on here and other sites. what an absolute imbecilic of being you are lmao.

also this phrase “seek God/help” like out of everything I said, and you took THAT to heart? and made a whole ass paragraph for it. religious point aside its a common phrase even an atheist can use, how old are you?

"fuck you and your gifsets. I’ve followed and supported you for YEARS, but nah, you can go fuck yourself. I’ve seen you being a bitch to your own followers and people who support your content over and over, treating them like shit, having a conniption fit because people comment IN THE TAGS of a reblog of one of your gifsets or bc someone thirsted over a hot fictional guy from a game you also play. ‘god’ forbid anybody do anything outside of your ridiculous ruleset and dictatorship or they’re “not allowed to follow your precious public blog!” fucking private/password your blog then. stop making gifs. leave." supported me for years and years yet you didn't know me well enough to read what i fucking wrote. and somehow you remember that i used to bitch about people leaving comments on my gifs cause it used to irritate me back in the day. it seems like you only pick up the bad habits about someone and keep them in your memories for some reason, and send them an ask like this to them when you dont like how they are anymore. (also get your facts clear man, I didn't bitch about people leaving comments in the tags I actually encouraged it, I bitched about people leaving comments IN the posts themselves. again another wrong fact about me).

"stop making gifs. leave" nah I don't think I will. I'll make even more, and bitch about how much i don't like people demolishing the characters I love even MORE now cause man, as tilted I am right now, I am MOTIVATED to make gifs even more now. oh my god you gave me something to work on!! just watch how many gifs i post this week :)

"you’re on Tumblr dot com, a public website where the whole point of it is to reblog and add on commentary! people have every right to say something, and why WOULDN’T you want people to compliment the gifs or you or thank you for them? why in your mind are people “not allowed” to talk about their fav character in a gifset? you’re the only person out of THOUSANDS I’ve ever seen in the past 10 years bitching about people commenting on content here. at least people reblogged your shit, you ungrateful fuck." its a public site but it's my blog, I get to post WHATEVER the fuck I want, I don't also tag these posts in the general media tags so it stay IN my blog, now if you you don't like it? simple enough. leave. also when have I ever said something or been ungrateful when someone liked my gifs??? that shit will send me over the moon even if the post didn't receive traction. holyshit youre dumb as fuck! my god I'm flabbergasted. someone leaving nice comments in the tags of a gif post, is a gif maker's wet dream! but of course you didn't know that cause why would you, or rather how would you cause you're dumb as fuck. what I bitched about wasnt someone leaving a nice comments in the TAGS so I can keep the post 'clean', I was bitching about people leaving comments on the fucking post itself and let me tell you they were NOT 'complements'. now if you didn't see that then not only you're dumb af, you're blind too.

"you come off as a narcissistic, entitled, spoiled brat and have some serious anger issues. you’re the one that needs help, and not from some magical guy in the sky. get off Tumblr. you’d be doing the site a favour. one less dickhead amongst the circus." narcissistic? I'm not too sure about it, I fucking hate myself that sometimes I'm suicidal and if you call that narcissism, then you need to fix your vocabulary. entitled? yes entitle to keep the filth out of my fucking blog that is. spoiled brat? yeah I've been spoiled with all the support that I've received recently from everyone who enjoyed my creations, and agree with my points that I've made about how degenerate cod fandome can be, and if by brat you mean being mature and express how some of the content in this fandom are just abominations, then yeah I'm a brat. also I fucking hate that word cause it's been in too many kinky fanfics that I managed to avoid, WHICH WAS THE TOPIC I WAS BITCHING ABOUT THE PAST TWO DAYS!

this isn't the first time I've been called all that cause I expressed what felt, and I'm sure it wont be the last either cause fucking brain dead, dumbasses like you exist in this site. and no amount of anon asks like this will make me get "off tumblr". you calling me a dickhead is fucking ironic considering what you sent over anon filter. fucking tiny dick, bitchless, maidenless, behavior.

"“dni if you read fics!!!!!” that’s a new one. 😂🤡" MY GOD! you are the dumbest anon I've received istg.

cry me a fucking river, you're expecting me to be grateful for having a follower like you? oh how you fucking wish. you lost all respect the moment you put on the anon filter on to send this abomination instead of sending sending one to actually have a debate or discuss it. oh I am so fucking glad you're gone.

and you also have some balls, coming here talking shit about how I keep ranting about stuff I didnt like, why dont YOU talk about it in your "own private blog"? I shit talk about how I hated the content some people made about my favorite characters, mischaracterized them or fetishized them in horrible ways. how I didn't appreciate the fact that people were going off and making filthy fanfictions about my favorite characters where they're being dicked down in the asshole and mouth at the same time, or how they're having their way with the supposed reader and they 'sharing them' with the others.

but you? you crossed the line that people don't cross in respect for others by sending this ask, not only you did that, you did it as a pussy ass bitchy anonymous. I hope you sleep well at night after you left this in my inbox. not only you sent a 'hate ask' you went out of your way to ask me to stop doing the only thing I love doing (beside shitposting and bitching) on this site, you made yourself look like a fucking clown by taking everything I ranted about the past two days out of context, and completely misinterpreting everything i posted.

and ironically you send a clown emoji so fitting

now all that aside, all this hypothetically speaking cause I aint a weak bitch and have managed to survive thus far; after you sending this 'nice ask' to me, what if I became suicidal again? what if I got tipped over the edge and completely disappeared from the site like you wanted by the nice words you sent? would you have taken the responsibility? would it be on your conscience that you ruined someone's life by sending a petty ass ask like this? do you really think this was a good idea? either you're getting roasted or taking responsibility of someone's demise. take that into consideration and think next time before you say some stupid shit like this.

there's an unspoken rule amongst people on this site. you don't send hate asks even if you're at your last straw. you unfollow and block people, but you did neither of those. and no matter how bad of a person is behind that blog you don't fucking tell them to 'get off tumblr' or tell them to stop doing what they love. you have absolutely no fucking right.

I wonder, how does it feel to act all 'holier than thou' then being wrong about everything you said. it also seems like you spent a little too much time on this ask cause I see those italic and bold words, man get a life, practice a hobby or just shut the fuck up. you could try to say that about me but I am FURIOUS right now. and goddamn motivated.

but yeah good fucking riddance. one less whiny bitch to worry about.

what a fucking dumbass...

I made the last post about people who likes 'pervy!141 hcs, kinky cumslut fanfics, and degenerate content' and told them to DNI because I've reached my limit, I told them to stay the fuck away from my blog, because I don't appreciate when people make scenarios about my favorite characters taking it in the ass and mouth at the same time, or associate them dark degenerate type of media, I dont want them near my blog and I certainly don't seek them out. all that happened recently is only because I went out my ways, which I rarely do, to seek some decent ass fanfictions. then, and only then I've encountered this stinky bull fucking shit.

#jay answers #dumbass anon #there's a new tag #made just for dumbass anons like this #what happened to trying to have decent taste?#or wanting to consume decent wholesome content?#if that makes me a bad guy then I've lost hope for this site all over again..#i've lost 4 followers because of the recent dni post #man shut the fuck up and get a life #i rewritten this 4 times now #cause i kept pressing ctrl+z #so im just gonna post this #anyways; be on the look out for more price and cod gifs #maybe some destiny too #edit: went ahead and edited some grammar and added a little bit more

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fallout-fallen-knight · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,560 times in 2022

74 posts created (5%)

1,486 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@themojaveexpress

@evacuate-the-mojave

@rocket-69

@calder

@thespiral

I tagged 1,559 of my posts in 2022

#queue - 1,526 posts

#fallout new vegas - 852 posts

#fallout 4 - 337 posts

#courier 6 - 205 posts

#fallout 3 - 122 posts

#benny gecko - 115 posts

#fallout - 89 posts

#fallout 76 - 78 posts

#wasteland fauna - 74 posts

#arcade gannon - 73 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#its bc they see benny as an impediment to them taking over nv themselves or letting house/caesar do it. he doesn't factor into their plans a

My Top Posts in 2022:

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is how cruel the depiction of the Sanctuary survivors is, in it’s incredible shallowness. They’re little more than caricatures, and what they reveal about the devs is ugly and mean.

Take the Longs, a grieving couple who recently lost a kid (I don’t know if there’s an exact date given, but it happens within the calendar year and is implied to have happened a month beforehand). They are heartbroken, and in turn, Jun retreats and becomes melancholy and Marcy hardens and becomes bitter. That is … pretty much the extent of their emotional journey. The most emotionally complex moment they share is when Marcy snaps at Jun and apologizes, but that’s it. They can find no solace in the community, or each other. There is no option to empathize with them after the loss of your own child, aside from a “hey, I’m looking for my kid, hope I find him.” There only respite is based on you, the player, improving the settlement they live in, and even then, it only slightly improves their mood. What does that say about grief, loss, parenthood? What does that say about people who have lost everything?

Mama Murphy is the closet thing Sanctuary has to an elder, a mystic, someone with a powerful gift. In a cruel twist, however, the Sight can only be unlocked through the use of Psycho, a powerful drug implied to be similar to heroin, and as a result, most of her visions are dismissed as the ravings of a lunatic - even as she is proven to be correct. She is old and frail, and thus not much help doing manual labor, but if you allow her to do the thing she is good at, she will inevitably die as a result. What does this say about the infirm and disabled, about spirituality, about drug users and addicts? What does this say about people who cannot give their bodies?

Preston led the survivors from Quincy to Sanctuary, and suffers intense depression and survivor’s guilt as a result. He admits to the sole survivor that he is depressed, and often hoped that something would take him out and give him peace. The only way to “cure” him of this is to tear him away from the community he has built and take him on further escapades around the Commonwealth, putting him in further harms way while he leaves behind the very people he pledged to protect. What does this say about depression, suicidal ideation, and the strength of community? What does this say about a person who believes he does not deserve to survive?

466 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

Fallout DLCs love when something is fucked up and wrong about the air, and also perhaps when there is a toxic slutch

504 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

In my mind the Followers/Khans split has to be more complex than just “they literally would not stop making drugs so we skedaddled” I refuse to believe that

522 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

558 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I am of the belief that vault dwellers should be just a little fucked up. You simply cannot grow up not knowing about the sky and be otherwise indistinguishable from a normal person

2,298 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #not fallout

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harrowreads · 2 years ago

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AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! SUNNYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🌞🌻

i am thrilled that you included me in the "moots who may like this" because YES, A THOUSAND TIMES, YES. i need to make a section on my rec list that is non-BTS content.

i have hit the part of my semester where i typically see something i like and reblog with a quick "tbr" tag to attend to later, but i literally dropped everything when i saw this because Sunny with a side of Christopher just felt right. AND BOY, OH BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

when it comes to comedy in fics, you are unmatched. i was literally in fucking TEARS. here are some very unhinged thoughts that i jotted down, mostly in caps lock, while i read:

THE KOALA V KANGAROO ARGUMENT ALSJDLASJD AS SOON AS I READ "SYPHILIS" I THOUGHT, “that cant be right……………..” asodojasldjasd

NOOOOOO NOT SENDING A TEXT TO THE WRONG PERSON I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN ASDKASHKDHAKSDHA AAHHHHHHH IM LIKE SQUIRMING NOOOOOOOOO shaking crying throwing upppppppppppppp anD THE WAY I COULD SEE CHRISTOPHER IN THIS MOMENT HOLDING HIS PHONE WITH A LOOK OF UTTER DESPAIR ON HIS FACE ASKDHJAKSDHASKDKHASDHAKSD

"WHERE DO YOU GET YOUR MEDICAL INFO." SUNNY I AM LITERALLY IN TEARS.

“i’m going to go pack up my room now” is so real. so relatable. just skedaddle of the face of the fucking earth.

he would be a talker. ughhhh.

.........and that is where my notes end. 💀💀💀

THE SMUT IS AMAZING, AS ALWAYS. and, as always, you leave me wanting more. alskkdjaslkdjasljdalsjda it was a great place to end this, but i was also eager, just like the mc.

what a fun little oneshot. absolute fucking whiplash from the funny to sexy. i'm going to go ice my neck.

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel.

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate.

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity.

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,” some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples.

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan.

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day.

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles.

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv.

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.”

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.”

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping.

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins.

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho.

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send.

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate.

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats.

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything.

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out.

Your phone buzzes.

Trying to find my shirt

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?”

“My tiger tank.”

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones.

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.”

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?”

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.”

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.”

“Thanks.”

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this?

You grab your phone.

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response.

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting.

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.”

Thanks

“Chan!”

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed.

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?”

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply.

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?”

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time.

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out?

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone.

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.”

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow.

He does. “Wait, what?”

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you.

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?”

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up.

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?”

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly.

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’”

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you?

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.”

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll.

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words.

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle.

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles.

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug.

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go.

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?”

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.”

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?”

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?”

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…”

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh.

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.”

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips.

“You good?”

Funnily enough, somehow, you are.

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you.

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently.

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.”

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling.

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face.

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?”

“If you - what?”

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.”

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to.

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again.

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.”

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach.

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest.

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.”

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction.

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?”

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!”

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth.

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses.

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again?

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine?

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting.

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses.

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop.

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun.

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.”

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?”

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame.

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly. He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker.

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want.

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly.

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.”

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs.

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.”

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused.

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild.

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him.

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern.

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.”

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down.

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.”

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you.

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock.

“Do that again, baby.”

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for.

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.”

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?”

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats.

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.”

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.”

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over.

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue.

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal.

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?”

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more?

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…”

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you.

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask.

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment.

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place.

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!”

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening -

“Fuuuuck!”

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth.

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling.

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times.

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.”

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!”

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over.

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.”

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.”

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later.

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

#bang chan x reader #skz read #minisugakoobies

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nightferns · 3 years ago

Note

I really agree with the post you reblogged by kitsu-katsu but...

Is it me or is it really uncomforable when people imply Fundy regarded Wilburs suicide as abandoning him because the quote goes " And then when I needed you the most, You skedaddled the fuck out of my life… then died."

Like those are separate things yes he is bitter but its because he never got to reconcile not because by committing suicide he abandoned Fundy.

Hell Fundy didnt know it was a suicide till he read Ghostburs diary and he was already saying that he felt abandoned by Nov 17.

I mean the Ghostbur quote is not the only reason people belive that. It's a bit complicated.

The reply got a bit Long so:

(/rp for everything under here, as well as tw for discussion of suicide and victim-blaming)

New L'manburg and adoption arc c!Fundy is obviously trying to process the fact that his father died.

He first believes that Wilbur died in the explosion (which he knows Wilbur set off, he doesn't let himself process it as a suicide), then he learns few days before he adoption stream that it was Phil who stabbed Wilbur from Ghostbur, which is later confirmed by Ghostbur's book but! He doesn't know it was a suicide then. As Ghostbur's book doesn't mention it. He assumes then that Phil stabbed Wilbur in other to "stop him".

Which leaves us with Fundy saying that his dad abandoned him while knowing that he was murdered. In that time we do get this quote among all the ones where he said wilbur abandoned him when he needed him:

"He was there for me and just left me in the dust when I needed him most… He was there! And then he vanished! He just- he just freaked out and just-"

To me at least it seems like Fundy is trying to process Wilbur’s death, his dad blowing up his home, missing him as well as just Wilbur being gone from his life in general suddenly, by mentally labeling it as abandonment, even when he knows Wilbur was murdered, it's an irrational thought certainly and not a fair one, Fundy is grieving.

He never mentions being unable to reconcile as the reason he is bitter. Moreso he mentions the absence of Wilbur in his life in general,

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking. ‘Fundy’ you’re thinking: ‘Fundy, you already have a dad.’ But I’ll be like: ‘No. My dad is dead.’ So… y’know.

Also, he blew up the city I lived in. I was born in. Mister Soot himself. Oh my god… That means- I still miss some parts of him. I really do. I really do.

And Ghostbur existance factors into this

He used to be a good man… Fighting for the right causes, but he just… halfway through he um… he changed. While he’s still sort of with us, I mean… I’m not… *sigh* I’m not over it. I’m not over it…

We need someone. We need someone to take care of us. And Wilbur? He is… He’s gone. He’s gone. You can’t get that- that fatherly bond of going golfing. You- We can’t get that fatherly bond of going fishing. He’s a ghost. How is he gonna pick up a fishing rod, am I right? That’s not possible. Because he’s a ghost and we are not.

But i do believe Ghostbur's existence may have contibuted to this view of it as abandonment,

While he denies seeing Ghostbur as Wilbur he is.. affected whenever Ghostbur does act like his dad.

On some level subconsciously Fundy understands Ghostbur as his dad irreversibly changing while not being gone from his life, someone who is so very different from how he was before but IS his dad.

Its easier to pile it on feeling abandoned then confront his feelings about it honestly, especially since he can't confront Ghostbur with them, as Ghostbur doesn't remember the things that Wilbur would and that Fundy could get out with the other party knowing the events.

Essentially Fundy feels so upset by Ghostbur because to him He both Is and Isn't Wilbur.

Is: because on a fundamental level he is the same person. And still acts the same as his dad did.

Isnt: Because at the same time he is a Ghost and dead, and Because he doesn't remember going through the things Wilbur and Fundy did, Fundy can't confront him about things he would've liked to talk with his dad about, and Fundy Misses that about his dad Deeply.

Before Wilbur's death Fundy hoped for a reconciliation, but when he is saying Wilbur left him he is not talking about Pogtopia.

Fundy's one attempt to reach out was both flawed and didn't get through that it was addressed to Wilbur specifically, so in the wake of the conversation during the meeting we get one quote that shows Fundy's mindset about Wilbur before November 16th:

[Buring a forest down] "Set fire to it all! set fire to everything! Oh my gosh Phil is gonna be so proud of me. And you know is gonna be proud of me? Mr Soot. Oh Mr Soot, you sly old man. Only able to solve your conflics with explosives, i see where you're coming from buddy! I see where you're coming from. Mr soot.

He's gonna be proud."

Fundy is adapting his behaviour to please a person he wants to be closer to, this is a repeated pattern of behavior Fundy often follows.

We know Fundy often feels alone and what comes with that is that the moment he has a person in his corner, or a person that was in his corner and is not there anymore because he upset them in someway, he will resort to this adapting of their behavior.

It also happened with Ranboo around Doomsday and it also happened with Phil after Doomsday/Butcher army.

He wanted to reconcile, yes but on some level he feels like he failed in that/was too late to try, and Wilbur died.

So keeping all this in mind lets see the full quote:

"-You were there for me for a very, very fucking long time. And then when I needed you the most-You skedaddled the fuck out of my life… and died. Because of what?! L'Manberg’s- L'Manberg’s causes? Huh?! You thought that was- You thought that was justice?! You thought that was good for me?! You left me, man! "

Keep in mind. At this point Fundy knows Wilbur's death was a suicide, but is still processing that, he learned that roughy ten minutes earlier when he came to ask Phil about it who even told him Wilbur's last words.

We'll come back to the L'manburg's causes line later but Fundy clearly expresses here that he feels abandoned because Wilbur died.

So i do think the argument that Fundy said he felt abandoned because Wilbur commited suicide is true, his closer to heart, true feelings arent expressed (fully) here, but i don't think i have to explain why Wilbur abandoning Fundy... is not what happned here.

So what is the real issue?

Lets look.

Both of these quotes are from the Doomsday Backstab stream:

"Oh… honestly, I was born in L’Manberg, right? I was born there! I know that. Wilbur was there to raise me… He was there to raise me! And then he left me. And at first, you know, I cared, I mean I did! I did, he blew up the nation that I was born in, and I felt affected by it; because I didn’t know better. I thought the nation was everything we had. I thought, the nation… was our home!"

"-I’ve tried bonding with Wilbur, only for him to commit suicide, by BLOWING UP L’MANBERG, and dying by the blade of his own father; I have befriended people that ended up being traitors… nothing I’ve done mattered! Not a single thing!"

So yes, Fundy does reffer to Wilbur's suicide as Wilbur abandoning him, a couple of times.

But getting to the heart of the problem

We also have:

"-You skedaddled the fuck out of my life… and died. Because of what?! L'Manberg’s- L'Manberg’s causes?"

“The dad that- my dad that exploded himself for the sake of a country, just for that country to be demolished in future hands?-"

“He put me to priority number 2, man. He put me in the second place.”

The last two are from just after Doomsday.

Fundy from around the time of the Pet war has been insecure about Wilbur putting L'manburg over him, and not being good enough (i talked about it here) and that feeling never really went away.

Adding that to Fundy's very low self-esteam and his fear of people leaving. And the deeper reason becomes him asking "Wasn't i good enough for you to stay?"

I'd wager that besides not feeling good enough, Fundy also feels guilty for not being good enough to stop Wilbur's death:

-I’ve tried bonding with Wilbur, only for him to commit suicide [...] -nothing I’ve done mattered! Not a single thing!"

"No matter how much i loved anyone or how much i wanted to help, Everything i did was wrong! It always brough people apart!-"

[Talking about his Nightmares] "Once they finally end- like- the- the continuous loop finally breaks I- … I- I just see myself. It’s like a giant mirror and no matter if I look to the left or to the right, the mirror stays in front of my eyes and I just see myself… and it just- it- it- it tells me that… you know- this is- this is gonna be crazy but… *little freaked out* eh… every single time, you know, L’Manburg and- and- and when Schlatt ruled and ehh~ everything was great and then I got involved and… nothing went the way it was supposed to go… *speaks quiet* …you know…? So like- *stutters and sighs* it’s- it honestly- it leads me to believe that, you know… I- *frustratedly sighs* it’s always ME, but… eh- it’s crazy…! It’s crazy… "

#oh boy this ones a long one #night's talk tag #night's meta tag #dsmp analysis #Fundy #Wilbur soot #ghostbur #tw suicide mention #tw victim blaming #<-dicussing both of these #long post

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years ago

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 17)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 16.1

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: You couldn't save everyone and it was a decision to sacrifice yourself for the betterment of a family you've began to hold dear. Your existence in the continent continues to confuse everyone, including you and Geralt himself.

Warnings: Blood? Poor Jaskier. Cusses. Implied rape from fuckin' assholes. No more glitters and rainbows. Bloedzuiger from the games? Gifs of Geralt with jet black eyes? I mean..why? shouldn’t it not be a warning? Heh.

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Anybody missed me?! Heehee! Now, I fookin miss Geralt and Midget together. Damn it. *sits in a corner and cries* I can’t believe I’ve surpassed my own curse where I only reach up to 5 chapters then keep a story unfinished due to lack of inspo and will. 😭😂 (Update has been earlier due to my uncle’s birthday tomorrow and I might not be able to use my laptop. Hehehe) We’re in the middle of the whole fic, bb’s. This is where everything’s going to happen now. Probably might earn some temple scratching somehow. Hehehe.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. (Credits to bi-jaskier and others who deserves credit for the gifs)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

7 BILLION PEOPLE IN EARTH. YOUR DIMENSION. There was a myth that seven people might look exactly like you out of the billion that were born. Though, being identical was a once in a blue moon circumstance that held no support or proof that it happened.

Twins even had their own genetic differences, their DNA's were not even the same or even mutually identical to one another.

But, you were transported into another dimension that you didn't know about and based on their conversation and how you've perceived from what they were saying is that you have already been in their hands when it never even happened from the start.

They sounded like they've already seen you somewhere when they haven't at all.

Chevaliers circled around you with their swords sheathed from where it rightfully belongs. They've had a malicious glint in their eyes, dangerous and full of spite. Disgust even included in their humanized souls---if they were even still human. They were looking as if you were an oddball. Judgemental to the fullest; vaguely telling that you were considered as a freak for being the witcher's woman.

Forest green eyes scanned yours, listless but an anomalous situation from the group of uncharitable gallants who seemed to have similar odious characteristics. This cavalier stood out rather than the rest because his eyes held sympathy and not hostility. He was gracile, the same body built as Jaskier. But, wearing no armor just like the vampire you loathed the most. Other than a brown doublet which matches his chocolate colored hair.

He crouched before you, thoroughly scrutinizing your face under his gaze; finding something distinctive or common with the lass that they have captured three days ago, "Wasn't she the one we captured, Ty? That thief named Savia?" his tone held curiosity and astonishment when he saw the exact same face of the woman.

There was no differences except from the aura he could feel. You had her face, voice and body structure. Entirely the same for his wits to disfunction from what he has witnessed.

The scrubbing echo of gravel, dirt and leather made you turn your head to where it was. Tybalt. The fucking vampire who stabbed you on the hip and tried to sell those women away. He was there, right in front of you; grinning like a mad man like he has caught a mouse in the cage, entirely anticipating this moment to capture you once again with purposes you didn't know yet.

Kolby was nowhere to be found. After trying to protect you from the hands of Tybalt, your Hirikka was pushed back by the vampire and his strength, making you screech as Kolby loudly whimpered and growled when he'd stumbled; his back flat from the far distance before skedaddling off through the woods. The simple escape back to where he belonged pinched a your heart because he had already been a part of what made you happy with your stay in their dimension.

You didn't expect his leave to be so early; in the midst of being captured by the hands of real life monsters.

If people were scared of monsters in this world you were currently in, then they should think twice because the cruel form of life in every damn world was the humanity it thrives in; continuing to become cruel, vicious, evil and cunning because people lived to strive more with greed surging through their veins as their own demons try to conquer.

Humanity was everyone's main enemy and not their monsters.

Tybalt gave you a subtle tilt of his head, his grin utterly sinister; those teeth of his never showing the fangs that you have seen back at the marketplace when he was trying to provoke Geralt as he was butchering off his knightly minions.

The break of dawn was coming to a start. Peachy orange glow of the sun hiding began to rest beneath the mountains and clouds that looked the same back in earth. Its glow have made everything more frightening while you were surrounded by a bunch of armored men and a vampire who obviously had strength and skills to kill you in a blink of an eye.

Geralt never scared you because his heart was good. No doubt about that because he had offer you his house from the first day you've met, even treating your wounds and saving you from an Alghoul who wanted to eat your insides. But, Tybalt was different. He didn't appear to be like a person to trust even the slightest except if you were a princess in the castle.

He had his hands on his hips, eyes digging to examine your face. The way he stood held power and cruelty as he clicked his tongue, "S'not the feisty one. I know this maiden's scent. She's the real one, aren't ye', you wench?"

Tybalt abruptly crouched down in front of you, his fingers speedily grabbing onto your roots and turning them in an aching posture that had you growling, teeth barred from the feral reaction. The wrinkles of his nose shown when he defiled your space, abrasing the column of your neck that ignited an intense shiver from the disgust as you cowered away and struggled against his hold.

You've heard Jaskier's footing come to a stand, his doublet spilled with his own blood. Hair all wild and facial expression livid for their sudden visit. The golden, sharp dagger tightened around his fist as he marched heavy steps towards the higher vampire.

But, his assault came to a stop when one cavalier shielded him before he could have Tybalt within reach, strongly punching him in the gut that made him stumble to the ground in less than a second. Jaskier sputtered out droplets of blood, a pointed sword punctuating the tip on his jugular.

Jaskier's pained moans made you snarl right back at the queen's right hand man which made him instinctively tut, "But, the fragrance has a distinctive scent to it now---I don't even know what's runnin' inside the mind of this whore anymore," Pause. Tybalt huffed, scoffing with a grin as he interrogated, "---What did the witcher do to ye'?"

You could feel his terrible breath on your face. His hold unwavering from the resolute strength that he had when you lowly grated through clenched teeth, your eyes screaming elfish because of how you were trying to dillydally in hopes of seeing a white haired witcher to come running towards you with his horse. But, considering how he was probably out to hunt a monster, he was probably busy and distracted. So, expecting the worst was better than awaiting for a moment that will never come.

"Me." you fooled around despite being in the vampire's hold, "---He's doing me. I've waited for the time to say that if someone ever asks me what my lover does---so, worth it, Leonidas."

From your foolish response, Tybalt sneered before nodding off towards the paladins who surrounded both you and Jaskier; sharing an understanding to do what is needed and before you could even turn your head back to check on Jaskier, they were already beating him down to pulp. You've heard more grunts from the twink of a toubadour which made your eyesight go foggy from being hopeless and such a waste to live in their world where you had no magic to keep everyone out of danger, "No! Don't hurt him!" you shrieked out loud, the gallants never ceasing despite of your pleads.

More blood dripped out of the side of Jaskier's lip as he took another strong blow on the gut; making his body jerk that laid from the outstretched land of the meadow. You've uttered one loud scream to catch their attention, noticing the other gallant that you noticed to be standing on a corner was just watching everything unfold like he didn't want to be involved with their horseshit.

"I swear to God, he's a weakling! Stop!---please, stop! You'll have your witcher! I'll give you your witcher just stop!"

With one signal of his head, the cavaliers stopped their battering. Jaskier feebly straightened his limbs over the short grass, coughing out more blood from their corporal punishments, grumbling out a grouse from your choice of words in which you described him with, "Shit. Rat. I've stabbed three knights in the neck for you."

If Jaskier didn't acknowledge that fact and the risk which he has given to keep you alive, you wouldn't have noticed three dead bodies laying on the farthest end of the meadow where the forest began to meet its field.

You've harshly turned your head back to Tybalt, wanting to spit on his face for being one of the best imbecile in their world but decided against it to not irritate him further until Geralt was around. His eyes were livid, staring back at you and in your peripheral vision, you've seen the back door of your house slightly ajar, a slip of a pair of the prettiest blue eyes hidden behind the hatch that made you swallow from the consternation of Cirilla being found and taken with you.

If one person was needed for capture, it should be you; not the princess. If one was to leave their world, it must be you because you didn't belong to their dimension from the start.

One cavalier took his mask off, shaking his head for his black, medium length hair to fall down his neck as he curiously crouched beside you and Tybalt. Features telling you that he was stupefied from what he was seeing with his fixated gaze on your face, "There's a whole lotta' crazy we got here in the continent! The Butcher of Blaviken created bloodbath for this maiden?"

Though, astonishment isn't the only sensation he was feeling when you've felt his fingers graze upon the lines of your ear; seeming to be bawdy and suggestive from the sudden touch and you couldn't help but wrest away from his reach. Howbeit, Tybalt's hand that was yanking on your head made it difficult to.

"Though, this harlot is less feisty than the other! I would rather much have her for tonight,"

The knight's sentence was sheared off when he was strongly pushed by the shoulder from the vampire; his fingers pulling away from outlining your lips with his fingers as he fell on his ass flat on the ground. You've been pulled by the hair to stand, making you pant harsh breaths from how painful it was feeling. Hands were trying to wrench his fingers from your head but his hold was too tight for you to tweak away.

"Ingrith wants her untouched just like the other," Tybalt droned as he pulled you close to him, seeming to be tall as Geralt. His height being an advantage over your small form as he dragged you anywhere he wanted. The knight who was pushed to the ground grunted from how he was assaulted, scowling from Tybalt's shoving as he cackled in a shady manner when he heard the latter set boundaries from their current captive.

"Ye' know ye' shouldn't fuck with a witcher's tart, Allard."

"I would! The weccan' wouldn't mind, does he?" the disgusting cavalier brought his feet to a stand, dusting the grass from his flat derriere as he looked back at Tybalt with a slight tilt of his head; the longer his gaze holds, it turns even more disgusting as he looked like he was undressing you with those dark hues of his, they were the type of stomach-churning that can make you sick in no time, "Oh, she's probably a fuckin' freak like him, lad." the latter stated as a matter of fact, smirking in between his words as he nonchalantly continued.

"---Where's the freak?"

They were making your blood boil by how you could hear they were treating him. Has it been always like this in his world? ergo, he was living a life where people see him ghostly rather than a gifted human as he was seen in your eyes. You couldn't help but sarcastically giggle from their rude speech, "He has a name and it's Geralt. Don't disrespect him like that when you're actually the real freak, Edward." pause. "---You fuckers are worse than any other human." before you can even think twice, spit drizzled on Tybalt's face when you've fumed and barked back, "---More evil than the devil himself and I pray for each and one of you to go to fucking hell,"

"The devil don't exist here, ye' foolish cunt!"

Without any delay or second thoughts, a deafening sound of a slap has rumbled; it was a saddle-sore, the strong smack lingering longer on your cheek as excruciating as it can get. He probably used a little bit of his inhumane strength because of how you've descended down the ground; the side of your head hitting as your whole body fell. Your palms flat on the terra firma, receiving bruises on the edge of your lips because of how you've nosedived in it.

"Rat---!" Jaskier shouted from the background before you've heard the gallants haul him down to kick his face hard.

The asshole squat down to where you were stumbled down, his face showing no pity from what he'd done; slapping you on the face like you deserve it from being all talk and no help, "I suppose ye' don't know where he is. Fair enough then! Let's give er' a lil' bit of a chase---" pause. "---He must try and serve his purpose to the land of Kaedwen other than being a freak of a mutant and slaughtering monsters for coins,”

You spat out the metallic taste of your blood that went inside your mouth, shifting your eyes to where he was bent. You've placed your fingers on your side, gesturing towards the princess who seemed to be shaking and panicking from inside the house, seeing silver clasped around her hands as she was contemplating how to defend you both from the gallants. She had the sword that her and Geralt uses whenever they were trying to train; the weapon which has been in your hands as well.

But, you subtly gestured for her to stand down and hide. It won't be such a nice sight if she did want to help.

"You sound like the castle's loyal pet. Hilarious."

The whole scenario was a fight or flight, and the logical part of your brain screams to cooperate with what they wanted before anything ends up more badly than it can ever get. You lifted yourself off the ground, sitting on the floor while you give Tybalt the death glare as he grinned because he knew the action he did was a trigger for you to comply.

"Where's the other girl?" he chuckled, watching your fists tightened to your sides when you were on your feet. A bloody, deep gash on your cheek when some stone has scratched it and also from Tybalt's whack.

"Don't even think about it, you asshole." you immediately hissed when you knew he was talking about Cirilla. The latter also stood on his feet, tall and confident that his plans were going on the right path today.

"What? She yer' daughter? aren't ye' a child?"

"I'm no child, you fucker! Stop dissing my height like this!---and yes. My daughter. She's my daughter, so don't even think about it!"

Surprisingly, there was no tears seen in your face. They didn't deserve your tears. These people needed to rot in hell, you mindlessly thought to yourself and irritatingly bit on the insides of your cheeks which slightly drew blood from how angered you were. Peering up at the man who was giving you an obvious snicker because he could read that you were succumbing from how they've caught you in hindsight and in a weak position.

The lion cub of Cintra stood behind the doorway, crying her eyes out from how impotent she was because of how everyone wanted her to stay back. Cirilla knows she could help but people who surrounded her wanted not to use her powers as she has yet to learn and control. Hence, she couldn't do anything but watch another person in her life be in a snare or better yet, drown to die in this person's own blood.

So far, hearing those words hurt her heart because she couldn't do anything when you were unconditionally risking your life for her not to be involved because that's what it's supposed to be.

To you, she was being treated more than she can ever expect; the title of a daughter that she didn't knew she missed to need, a mother despite of being not connected through bloodline. But, a woman who would care for her well-being just like how her grandparents did loved her.

Consider herself lucky even though how unfortunate her life began. She received a father and a mother that will risk everything just for her to be safe and she knew she was crying right now because she cared for you; she was concerned like how a daughter would.

Your jaw tightened because you wanted to bash their skulls over and over again until they were dead. They probably was from how you've intellectually murdered them inside your mind since the moment they arrived. You irately peered up at Tybalt, your forehead tightly creased, mouth in a tight frown as you gave him a death stare.

"You want Geralt of Rivia right? then, take me. He'll come after if you take me, just don't kill Jaskier and my daughter."

Jaskier hurriedly shook his head and audibly muttered out his negations to himself from what you had in mind. You were surrendering yourself to them. The bard promised to the witcher not leave your side as much as he would do, but his family was prevailed over the count of cavaliers who came; thinking Geralt was probably there to fight with. But, no. The opposed held a number and Jaskier wasn't mutated nor skilled to know any form of magic for defense.

He knew today will be a loss and after hearing your next words, the humble toubadour knew that you've risked your life again for the betterment of their kingdom and theirs.

"Tell Geralt I seriously need some saving---and I promise this will be the last time I'm needing him again," you forced a smile, looking at the bard with your vermillion all drenched in claret red liquid while trying to send off the meaning that you would be okay while you were away with them.

Nevertheless, he never heard the fast, anxious beating of your heart for what will welcome you to wherever they decide to put you in.

Rough hands shoved you forward, making you look away from Jaskier as you began to take grudging steps to where Tybalt's horse awaits, the image of your smile falling was the last that Jaskier can remember before you left, "---Also, tell him I have a very important secret to say so he better hurry up!"

Scattered skeletons were buried beneath the dank ground of the gloomy swamps. Nightfall has taken its course when Geralt arrived; surprising to say that he arrived earlier than he expected to. Some trees were dead while the others have been cut-off by their limbs from inexplainable reasons. From monsters who probably lived in the area and based on how the moon aligned, it was already midnight; close to morning.

The witcher was wounded. Abnormally drained and in fatigue from using his little spells to slaughter the Bloedzuiger; his arm, back and torso currently in pain due to its acidic blood that splattered him, slightly ruining the body of his armor and the under shirt he wore.

Geralt has used Aard and Igni to fight off the beast and his energy spiked low to the point that he could sleep standing on the ground. But, the idea of his family alone made him push the plan aside because his family was more important than his life.

The latter even took a faster route to arrive and slaughter the beast earlier than his estimated days.

He was just beyond drained and parched tonight.

Long, begrudging sighs left his lips. His hair was sticking all over, eyes still black from the potion he drank, clothes all wet from being shoved under the water and a face too grubby that also held burnt patches that will surely heal in no time. Though, some will probably earn him a scar or two. He was stalking towards his horse, his silver sword that was used for monsters on one hand when the witcher has heard a tiny step of footing that broke a twig, making him slightly turn his head to the quiet noise he heard.

This intruder took more cautious steps closer and he wanted to curse out loud for all the interruptions that made his life more complicated than it already is.

Human. Geralt knew it was human. This person even had a scent to it. She was a woman who had a strong floral fragrance; rose and earthy.

"You shouldn't be here," he lackadaisically declared to no one in particular as he sighed for the hundredth time this day. Heedful of the woman hiding behind a dead tree as he strolled to where Roach waited, ignoring her as he strolled.

Thus, the woman was strong enough to acknowledge a witcher in his full form as she decided to walk towards him, talking in pure fascination to have seen one in the flesh.

"A Witcher. I've heard tales of your kind. Though, I’ve heard new wicked bavardage from town that this particular beast has slayed my own kind for the sake of saving one. Wouldn’t it be wiser to choose the lesser evil or the greater good?" she scoffed before continuing, “---aren’t you quite miserly to have done such thing by killing less or maybe more than a dozen and salvaging yours?”

Geralt dropped the loot that he has ransacked from the monster, dropping them inside his leather bag with a scowl. This woman's tone of voice perking his ears that made him cease his packing.

"You were never just a mere epic," she sarcastically laughed in spite. The timbre of her voice thoroughly distinctive and familiar for Geralt to be incorrect. He gave her a sharp side-eye, his eyes jet black when his mind went in befuddlement after recognizing a face that he managed to memorize since the moment that this certain woman came in his life.

"You're the witcher they're finding. The butcher! You were the reason I was taken! Feckin' Geralt of Rivia, aye!"

She was you.

A face that always keeps his mind going in haywires. Features that can be considered as a strong weakness for the witcher because of how he'd easily let his guard down with just a glimpse of a face that could ruin his resistance over having another woman be prone of peril in his dangerous, hindering life.

Even only hours of being away from you; half a day to be precised. With just by seeing her face tempted him to reach out for what he longed for; to touch the face of the woman who'd felt deep sensations for him---accepting of what he actually was with no judgement in her mind. The ache and worry in his chest was not helping how he yearned to never leave you alone in the first place.

He couldn't help but take a step close to the woman who also had the same height as you. His obsidian eyes staring straight into her soul like he'd seen the devil and he was happy to worship; jaw tight as his lips came with a lour.

Geralt looked utterly monstrous for a person who wasn't used to seeing his kind.

"Midget?"

The woman instinctively took a step back despite of how she was running her mouth a while ago; fear shutting her confidence that she could confront him for bothering a life she also dreaded to live in. Her eyes filled with horror and disgust in which Geralt clearly has seen without the use of his doubled up heightened senses.

She was not his tiny mortal. This woman in front of him was beyond different. The real you wouldn't look at him in sheer revulsion; no profound emotion in those eyes that he was used to seeing.

She had her brows in a tight twist, sending him a nasty glare that got him humming out in distaste from an attitude he wasn't use to seeing with a face like yours, "I'm not a fucking midget! What a shitty name you've got me! Doesn't sound too nice to hear too! Ya' fuckin' brought me ill-fate!"

Geralt was quick to turn around his heel. Brooding once again from the bafflement that got him thinking again. Why did you have a person who looked exactly like you in their world?

"You're not her." he stated as a matter of fact, sounding confident with his assumptions because the witcher knows he is right. Geralt walked over to his horse, huffing out a breath off his nose from sheer displeasure as he heard the woman jogging to where he wanted to go.

"Apparently not. You're mistaking me with another unfortunate little lady then!"

"Who are you?" Geralt didn't bother to give her a glance no matter how he wanted to relieve the longingness to see your face; to know that you were safe in their home with Jaskier and Cirilla, hoping that everybody was protected and safe from anyone.

But, this woman with him was not you. He needed to remember that.

She tightly crossed her arms on her chest, eyeing the brooding man as sharply as the woman could with her maroon colored cloak strapped around her shoulders, the hood off when she'd arrived to have seen him, "The name's Savia, witcher."

"Why are you here?" he timidly grumbled, his silver sword in a scabbard after the fight. Roach neighed aloud, huffing out a breath when Savia was an arm close to her, acting like she didn't like her.

Geralt couldn't help but raise a brow from his horse's sudden actions, bringing up a hand to shush her with his fingers brushing along her mane.

Savia can't help but take a cautious step back at that; his horse's reaction making her feel unwelcome and unwanted by the pair. Though, her blabber mouth couldn't help but run on and on, being all chatty when she was in the verge of being chased down by gallants. Savia knew she could outrun them like she wasn't even being pursued from the start because she has been doing this for years; stealing lots of valuable things then never being found after as she can always escape from the brutal hands of lords, inn keepers, and a whole lotta' more.

"I've escaped! Stolen goods from the castle? Their riches? Serves them right for keeping me in prison! Oh! I could steal yer' coins too, if you want. But, now I shan't retrieve them after telling all my plans! I'm no fool! I'm a skilled thief. Sounds professional, isn't it?"

She couldn't help but giggle, utterly blowing with the wind from the occupation she had; confident regardless of how unseemly her job was to live. Though, Geralt didn't give any negative reactions because he was the last person to judge someone who had an indecent job just to live in their world.

He kills and hunts monsters for a living. It doesn't sound too appealing for a normal human, correct? Hence, he wasn't in the position to criticize a thief especially when this poacher looks entirely like you.

"---I've killed some knights out there just to escape, ye' know? Maybe a bunch! Ye’ can still count em with your fingers!" the witcher ceased ferreting around in his bag when he'd finally given her his attention. The color of his eyes subsiding and turning back to its normal hue. Gold in the middle of the night like star light illuminating her gloom and it made Savia stare at him in awe because of how he typically looked like without the potion and all.

Well, hearing the gossips about him from the women in the brothels and men who shared their wicked tales were really true because the witcher who stood before her right now was a complete knockout who had a terrifying shadow he left behind.

Savia couldn't help but pout her lips inquisitively, catching sight of his amber heavily examining her face with a gist of feeling that she couldn't recognize because of how she has never receive nor experienced the look of love. But, the woman was sure he was only blinded by the fact that the face she had held whatever he holds dear; a person he had in mind that he swore to protect, desire and care for.

Savia has never seen a witcher look considerate and warmhearted. The opposite of what people claimed his kind to be. He was the butcher of Blaviken. Perhaps, she have been a witness of his character changing with one simple cast of a face he claimed to be important.

She knew that midget was too significant to him when his face turned back to normal, stretched in a way that has him looking anxious, bothered and utterly worried from the words he heard.

"I'm wondering how I've been involved by a witcher I never seen or met. They were weird! Got me bruises because I never knew where you were and I couldn't tell where ye' live!" pause. Savia's lips emitted an awkward scoff, "---Those fucking gallants did a number on me for days that I have been imprisoned. They were thinking you would go and save me---oh, shiver me timbers! No obsidian--golden eyed witcher would save me from my demise!"

Geralt torpidly blinked back at her, his forehead tightly creasing; trying to deliberate what was happening. His thoughts immediately skipping to bad ideas and outcomes because of the fact that you had someone looking like yourself.

"They were shitty and off one's rocker! Especially that sorceress because she wanted to cast me under her spell, trying to get me examined because I didn't belong to their world---wondering if I had some sort of magic in me for her to possess. She was batshite crazy!"

He couldn't help but irritatingly shut his eyes, mutely giving himself a talk while he kept his mouth shut; not risking to be heard nor is this woman close enough for her to know what's inside his thoughts. Geralt chose to stay silent, breathing down long heavy inhales and exhales from the drawbacks that suddenly occurred.

Here was destiny starting again.

Savia loudly huffed before him, raising a cocky brow when she hadn't heard that deep, gravelly voice that sounded unfamiliar from the ones she has always been hearing, "Are witcha's always this silent? I've been doing all the talking! It's like you're a mute!"

The Witcher heard footfalls coming from a distance. Two gallants. It was only a pair for now and if the woman didn't took her flight before the entire horsemen arrives, she would be taken again and be behind bars in the fortress of Kaedwen.

Would he save the thief who made everything more complicated by looking exactly like you? Creating a mishap by stealing jewelry from the queen?

Everything he thought about would result in an intense migraine because Geralt know you'll be accused of a crime that was never done by his midget. Therefore, taking you in for captive would end up being like hitting two birds in one stone; they get to have him running off to where the castle is and also have the accused thief who didn't need no convincing because of how Savia showed up in their lives; ruining yours.

"Fuck. Why did you need to show up now and complicate things---even had to fucking steal ornaments from the queen with a face who is utmost valuable to me."

The frustrated question was sent to Savia who stepped back from the latter; his teeth suddenly barred and feral, sharply staring down at her. Totally irritated by what she'd done. Geralt heard metal being dragged out of its scabbard and it took him one turn of his head to be welcomed by two knights who was ready to pounce on him by seeing what he was.

One of his monikers slipped out of their tongues with such disgust and a hitch of their breath. There was no use for killing cavaliers tonight because this woman hardly have been involved in his life, yet he would still save because of having a weakness that seemed unfair for her to have.

Geralt raised his hand towards the taller knight who opened its mouth to shout at his fellow horsemen who held their torches from a far distance when suddenly a string of glowing, white line shot through his head; casting Axii for the men to take despite of how the witcher was feeling low with his energy that has been used prior to hours before they arrived.

It was a simple magical sign where it compromises hypnotic effect; it can be used to calm down people or animals, manipulate their minds or be used to hex enemies. A triangular white symbol surrounded the string of line which paved its way towards their heads; passing through both as they were momentarily stunned, acting as if they were puppets and Geralt had the strings.

Thus, after a while; Savia was astonished to see both armored men attacking each other like they were in a battleground and they were both forgotten.

Yet, it wouldn't last long.

"Witcher! What did you feckin’ do?!" she squeaked, heart beat racing from the adrenaline rush.

Geralt had not taken a second before jumping on his horse, gripping onto her reigns and pulling to turn her around, quickly nudging her to gallop towards the path back to where he could go home.

He needed to come back home. The heavy and worried feeling inside his chest wasn't just the result of overthinking. Geralt knows that there was something happening now and it wasn't good. He needed to know if you were safe, all in complete set of limbs when he sees you, if ever he could even get to again because the dreaded feeling was rising higher in such a toxic amount that would make him blame himself when you're gone.

Geralt couldn't even think straight for even contemplating about the idea that you were gone and out of his reach.

"Leave before they actually kill you. It can only last for seconds due to the energy left in me,"

He'd run off before Savia can even acknowledge his kindness. The Butcher of Blaviken has helped her escape. He wasn't a murderer nor did he hurt her.

"Geralt of Rivia, right?!" she yelled out to no one in particular after watching Geralt leave with his horse. The simple yell has caught the attention of more gallants, seeing the flames of their torches walking their way through the forest and through the swamps that got her zipping her mouth shut. Those two hypnotized gallants falling on the swamps behind her from beating each other to death.

Savia couldn't help but hum in interest, whisper-yelling her next words as if the witcher can hear her amongst his troubled heart.

"---Thank you for letting me escape! you're helpful after all!"

Geralt please axii my puxii LMAO. FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethough over the tags mean I couldn’t find your blog, bb’s.)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex, @britty443,

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547

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miracle-sham · 5 years ago

Text

Our Faces are Hidden Behind Masks of Glass.

| {Maribat 2k20 – Day 1: Late Night Discussions} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

| Sometimes, when secret identities are revealed, you just need a cuppa tea and some reaffirmation—and maybe some cuddles too. |

| Word count: 1534. |

==–==

| A/N: So I really thought SCAB would be my first piece of writing posted on here/for Maribat but then I got mugged in a dark dank alleyway by the Maribat2k20 MariTim prompt calendar and stabbed by the knife of inspiration. So uh yeah enjoy. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==–==

Heck-heck-heckity-heckles, Marinette chants in her head, desperately needing to find an empty alleyway that she can detransform in. She flicks her yo-yo towards a random skyscraper, and swings her way across the Gotham night skyline, scanning the streets below for somewhere that met her criteria.

Just as her earrings bleep thrice to signal that she was down to two dots, she spots it, an empty alleyway not in plain view of any roads, or windows. There! She cheers internally, dropping down into the alleyway and whispering a “Tikki, spots off!”

However, her relief at finding a place to detransform is short-lived, for as soon as the bright pink glow fades away, she's faced with the sight of Red Robin half changed into civvies, domino in one hand. Marinette stares at him in shock, and he stares back. Blinking blankly, she tries to wrap her mind around the fact that one of her "civilian" friends is actually a hero. A hero she's allies with, friends even.

The two stand there for a solid minute as their brains reboot. Tim cocks his head to one side, gaze flickering between looking her up and down, and staring at her earrings. Marinette also cocking her head to one side but her gaze switches between his bare face and the domino in his hand.

Once their brains finish rebooting, immediately the two blurt out the first thoughts to come to mind.

“Tim... You're Red Robin?”–

–“Wait, Marinette, you've been Ladybug this entire time?”

Marinette swallowed, blinking back tears, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable she was in the open with her secret exposed and—oh god, Tim's the first person to know my identity bar Master Fu… This is the first time I've ever had my identity revealed and I didn't even get a choice—She manages to choke down a sob before spitting out, “I think we should take this somewhere more private.” The words burning her tongue with the acrid taste of fear.

He nods sharply—almost more of a jerk than an actual nod. “I agree.”

Neither makes an attempt to move, both still staring.

“My place or yours?” She asks, hesitantly, half frowning.

He nods again, more softly this time, “Mine, but lemme just um…” Gesturing towards the amalgamation that was half his Red Robin suit and half civvies as he speaks.

Marinette's eyes widen in realisation, practically squeaking, she stutters. “Oh. Uh yeah, sorry!” She stiffly turns her back to him in an act of respect of privacy and cradles her face in her hands as her cheeks flush bright red from embarrassment. God, I'm never going to live this down, am I?

After about a minute of stewing in her embarrassment, she hears Tim clears his throat from the other side of the Alleyway. “Okay, done.”

She turns around to face him again, the blush has faded somewhat in the time passed but it's still very clearly noticeable. She can't help but glance at his civilian outfit. “Oh, er, nice?”

He sort of just blinks at her, rather bemused. “Uh, thanks… I guess?”

An awkward silence hangs over them as they shuffle and dance around each other on their way out of the alleyway. The walk to his theatre house is just as silent and awkward despite the hundreds of questions on each of their lips. A good thing then—Marinette supposes—that we didn't go to my place, I'm not sure I'd be able to handle an even longer awkward silence.

==–==

They take the civilian route inside—also known as using the door like a sane person—because apparently, vigilantes will only use windows as entrances provided there are windows to enter and that the vigilantes in question are suited up. Tim spends a good thirty seconds opening his front door, deactivating a bunch of different security protocols most likely. The hallway and lounge lights were already on probably to try and deter potential robbers—the house is in Crime Alley after all—but once they enter said hallway, all the ceiling lights on the first floor switch on.

Tim guides her to the sofa, which she perches on the edge of, facing the massive fish tank before disappearing into the kitchen. The sound of shuffling feet, cupboards and drawers opening, and the click of a kettle—or perhaps a coffee machine? She can't quite tell from this distance—are the only things to give away what he's doing in there. Marinette has no doubts that he's making the noise on purpose, he's a bat. But she's not quite sure if the noise is because he's comfortable here, or if it's because he's trying to make her feel more welcome?

A minute later, Tim re-emerges with two teacups in hand. He gently lays both on a coffee table between the sofa and aquarium, one of the cups pushed towards her general direction. He plops himself down on the sofa as well, albeit leaving enough space between the two of them that a third person could sit there.

She picks up the drink and peers at it, perplexed, for a second, question falling from her mouth before she can stop herself, “Earl Grey? With lemon?” I thought he was a coffee person?

“Alfred.” Is his clipped response.

She nods and 'oh's under her breath. That explains it. Marinette takes a sip and her eyes light up. “Oh wow! This is delicious!”

Tim raises his eyebrows in amusement and snorts but doesn't comment. The conversation lulls again. They sip their tea in silence.

When Marinette finishes her tea, she carefully puts the mug back down, with an audible clink, on the coffee table. She hesitates and the words Kagami once told her come unbidden to her mind. She grimaces, glances to Tim.

He's watching her with that calculating gaze of his, however, it seems far more tumultuous in nature this evening. He's hiding his mouth behind his mug like another mask.

Marinette leans back against the sofa and stares at his ceiling before idiomatically biting the bullet and physical biting her lips. “How long are we going to do this?”

He freezes. “Do what?”

She gestures vaguely in the air between the two of them. “This, tiptoe around the elephant in the room or I suppose in our case, the vigilantes in the room.”

Her phrasing manages to bring a small smile to his face but not a second later it fades and he purses his lips.

Solemnly, he gives her a once over. “So you're Ladybug then?”

Marinette huffs. “And you're Red Robin.”

“Does anyone else know that you're her then?”

She turns her head away from him, “No, you're…” Her throat closes up and she's forced to blink back tears again. Barely holding back the sniffles, she chokes out the last few words. “You're the only other person to know.”—Not technically a lie, it's not like Master Fu remembers anything about the miraculous, let alone my identity.

Tim deflates slightly, curling his shoulders inwards. “I wish you had told us before, we could have supported you. You shouldn't have had to deal with all that without help”

“What? Like Batman didn't start off alone?” Marinette snaps back automatically, no real heat behind her words.

“Batman's not exactly a pillar of good life decisions or emotional stability.” He retorts with a raised eyebrow.

Sighing, she shakes her head and whines, “Tim…”

“Marinette.” His lips twitch upwards like he's in on some joke she doesn't get, “On the bright side, now we know each other's identities, we can help each other on cases and patrols, or cover for the other in or out the masks.” He offers, sounding so calm and nonchalant.

Marinette shuffles closer to him on the sofa. “That would be useful. I just. I.” She stutters, brain moving faster than her mouth.

Tim grins ruefully. “You're worried I'm gonna tell the rest of the bats who you are, right?”

She curls up instinctively. “Yeah…”

“Don't worry, they're also detectives. If they can't work out your identity then why should I give them the answer?” He tries to joke but it falls flat.

“The magic of the Miraculous stops people from making the connection between my two identities.” Marinette responds.

“Ok, but what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to give you away even if they ask.” He also shuffles closer to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him.

“Thank you, Tim.”

“No problem, Mari.”

Marinette pauses. “So this won't affect our relationship in or out the mask, right? We're still friends?”

“Of course! This doesn't change a thing.” Tim, emulating Dick, pulls her in for a hug, and if Marinette melts into his arms—well he's not going to say no to that, not when he's so touch starved.

==–==

When Dick breaks into the house the next morning to check on Tim, seeing as he never checked out for the night nor did he return to the cave, he finds the two cuddled up together—fast asleep on the sofa. He nabs a spare blanket and pulls it over the two of them, snaps a pic to serve as evidence to Tim being okay, and then skedaddles before either can wake.

==–==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

@maribat-2k20

#Miraculous Ladybug #ML x DC #DC x MLB #Maribat #Timinette #MariTim #Timari #Tim X Marinette #Marinette x Tim #Maribat2k20 #Maribat2k20 Tim x Marinette #Maribat2k20 Day 1 #Maribat 2k20 Late Night Discussions #Our Faces are Hidden Behind Masks of Glass #OFaHBMoG #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

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agent-yolk-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Ch. 4

And we’re back! First AO3, then Quotev, now finally Tumblr! Good thing for post resets.

In today’s episode, we jump straight back to the present to meet the last member of the B-Team. Venom has a plan for once, the Reader is Absolutely Done(tm) physically and emotionally, and what Aunt Mary doesn’t know who her nibling is bringing into their apartment while she’s on a business trip won’t kill her...yet.

(Nibling is the gender-neutral term for niece/nephew, the more you know)

Note: If you’re using this to teleport to the AO3 version I would like to give a heads up that the italics for some reason stop working when the Reader meets Peni. I don’t know how to fix it, so it be like that sometimes. Enjoy!

Previous Chapter | Start from the beginning | AO3 version

...

Indeed, it did get weirder.

You didn’t realize that the hunt for your next meal took so long. The sun just...got ahead of you. The shadows in this creepy part of the city started stretching, covering everything in its path. You thought your eyes were playing tricks when you saw another pair of Spider-man’s white eyes in the darkness behind Ham. The tingling sensation faded as the shadow started moving, revealing that it was an actual goddamn person.

Despite being a self-proclaimed ‘superhero’ for almost a week now, you aren’t getting paid enough for this.

You rubbed your eyes expecting this weird dizzy spell would go away, but upon opening them again they were still standing there staring at you.

“Don’t worry, I get that all the time.” Ham commented. He eyed his taller companion and nudged him on the thigh. “C’mon man, you can’t just stand there menacingly forever.”

“...”

Should I just go or-

“You got some nerve stealing the glory of someone else’s hard work.” Great, he also sounds familiar. Is this some reunion you didn’t get the memo for?

“Well you certainly can’t leave them here to waste!” You rebutted as you stood up. “Someone’s gotta clean up, and it might as well be us.”

“There’s no us in this, missy.” He rebutted.

“That’s not what I-Ugh, whatever!” You shook your head in your heads in frustration before looking back at them. “Look, we’re not going to get anywhere bickering like this.” You motioned your hands to the two. “You guys are out of place, clearly. Let’s discuss this somewhere else before-“ On cue, the sudden wail of police sirens announced their presence as they block off the only ground entrance out of here. Venom instinctually covered your ears to block out the loud sound. “...that.” You sound of your croak almost sounded not human.

The two looked at each other. While you were right that this isn’t the ideal spot for an interrogation, you’re still not in the clear of their suspicions.

“Alright. Let’s skedaddle then, but you’re not out of the hot seat yet, missy.” The brooding spider detective said, shooting a spider web and letting it pull him up. You couldn’t help but groan, he speaks like a dad in a cartoon.

Ham nudged you deeper into the alley. “C’mon kid. It’s quieter up top.” You could feel Venom trying to dig your heels into the dirt, but at this point, it was too dangerous.

Spider-Ham, also known as Peter Porker, was in fact not a pig at first. According to him, he was the spider bitten by a radioactive pig that later became his aunt. He told you not to think about it too much. In his world, everyone has been anthropomorphized into an animal. He works at the Daily Beagle where they work him like a dog trying to sniff out the latest scoop. He was just finishing a fight with a mad scientist lobster before he got snatched between dimensions. The more he talks, the more vocal your thoughts are trying to figure out where have you heard his voice before. A thought passed somewhere about what you might look like in his world.

His black and white companion was Spider-Man Noir, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker, who lived in a monochromic version of Earth in the 1930s. He used to investigate stories for the Daily Bugle and during that time a spider that resided in an exotic statue from Africa escaped and bit him. After the betrayal and death of his mentor Ben (“Not to confuse ya with my uncle Ben, who also bit the dust.” He explained.), he decided to become a P.I. and fight Nazis along the way. You liked this guy already, and yet he also sounds so familiar.

To think just half an hour or so, you were about to metaphorically throw hands and eat heads…

And we still didn’t eat them.

Yea, I’m a bit disappointed too. I’ll make it up later.

Those poor criminals, wasted. Handed to the police before you could even nibble on a finger. If Venom starts to act up like a grumpy child, it’s on them. After the small buzzing in your ears died down, all you’re left with is that dull throbbing in your head that you get with migraines and hunger from both you and your companion. It’s not your fault the universe slapped a literal man-eater on you.

Then again, after the whole exposition dump they piled on you, you felt a little guilty sprinkling your truth with little white lies on top. By the way your companion was treated by his not-so-friendly superhero, you could only assume that it’s mutual throughout the alternative universes. Better play it safe and claim you built your suit out of some nanotech that was laying around...somewhere. You even ‘pulled down’ your mask as a sign of trust.

You regained your focus when Venom used your limbs to jump between buildings to catch up with the eccentric duo. You haven’t really kept in touch with the whole lore of superheroes. They didn’t involve you, so you didn’t get involved. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world if you didn’t reblog five different gifsets of the same skit Tony Stark was in on Sunday Night Live. If they’re taking you to some secret spider cave, then it’s news to you.

Speaking of which,

“Sooo,” You decided to break the ice. “Where...exactly are we heading to?”

“Our own little Hooverville.” Noir answered. “It ain’t much, but it’s the best we got at the moment.”

“Plus we already have someone guarding the helm while we searched for more folks like you!” Ham added.

“You’re telling me there’s another one of you guys?” You held your hands up and counted the total number of spider heroes, not including yourself.

“And together, we make quite a ragtag bunch.” Ham continued on. “Who knew you could make a robot shaped like a spider?”

“Don’t forget the fact it’s small enough for that kid to get in and out with ease and her fingers still intact.” Noir added.

“Who...is this…’person’ you’re talking about?” You questioned, trying not to assume to worse.

“Don’t worry, she’s a sweetheart.” The detective added. “She’s got spunk for someone her size.”

Oh god, Venom.

What?

If this is an actual child I swear-

“Welcome back!”

You had to give your eyes a good rub to process what you were seeing. In front of you was indeed a small mecha shaped like a spider. The red and blue metal pieces clash together but at the same time was fitting for something like it. The small figure that was tinkering one of the robot’s legs when you arrived. As they stood up and you finally get a good look at her, you wanted to go apeshit over the fact that, indeed, it’s an actual child piloting a robot. You’ve seen like two movies that basically told you why it’s a bad idea for a kid to pilot a destructive machine in the first place.

You can tell by her appearance alone that she too is from another universe. You couldn’t describe it, but her dimensions seem...rather flat? No, that’s not the right word. Whatever it is, Ham has it too. You thought it was just Ham being Ham up until now since, after all, he's a walking, talking, crime-fighting pig you see in cartoons.

“Hey kid, hope there weren’t any scuffles while we were gone.” Noir was the first to greet her as she ran up to him.

“Nope! It was quiet as a mouse.” Was her response. She peered around his brooding form and met your eyes. Her eyes managed to grow even bigger as she approaches you excitedly.

”Hello! You must be the one we were sensing!” She grabbed your hand, giving it a nice shake. “I’m Peni Parker, and that over there is my robot SP//dr!” As if on cue, SP//der’s faceplate lit up and gave a friendly wave. Out of politeness, you waved back while ignoring the spidey-sense going off threefold.

Peni Parker...Peter “Noir” Parker...Peter Porker...Not to alarm anyone, but you think there’s some kind of pattern going here, and you’re the outlier. Well, at least Gwanda is with you for this one.

”H-Hello, Peni…” God, why are you acting so awkward all of the sudden? ”I’m (First Name), hero name TBA.” You shot your arm out awkwardly, letting the small girl take the reins in the art of the first handshake. You wonder if she can sense your weirdness with that firm grip of hers.

“So, now what?” Ham was the first to break the silence before it got weird. “We’re basically sitting ticking time bombs until we figure out a way to get back home! New kid!” He pointed at you, making you jump at the sudden action. “You got anything new to contribute?”

Shit! Shit! No one told me this was a quiz! Vee!

...We have an idea. Cover us.

Huh?! You have a-

Venom assumed control of your body, shrugging off your backpack to find your phone. Your phone? What could there possibly be on your...Oh! You have...some sort of an idea on what he’s doing! Maybe.

“Actually,” You started, bracing yourself like you’re stalling for time on an in-class presentation. “I heard a rumor the other day online…” Subtly, Venom pulled back the tendrils over your thumb so your phone can scan your print. “Somebody on a high-rise took a picture of the area-passwordiscapitalqwerty-where Spider-Man died. Can’t guarantee that-yesallcaps-you’ll see the body with this quality though.” Now if you can only find said photo if the mods of that subreddit didn’t remove it first. Ugh, this public wifi sucks ass. Who's hoarding it at this hour?

It doesn’t help that your hand is visibly shaking as your phone struggles to detect any pressure from your sweaty appendages and three sets of eyes that are on you expectedly aren't making this any easier. To make sure karma knows it's laughing at you, your phone slipped out of your grip at the most inopportune moment. Your case had taken some beatings in the past, but you know for sure by the sound of the landing that it was time for it to be replaced. You just stood there frozen, wondering when the panic attack kicks in.

Instead, your tingling skin is your only warning before your muscles went out of control. It felt like you were being ripped from the inside out and then being ripped outside in twice fold. The pained garble coming out of your mouth was either coming from you or Venom. It was tough to see with your spotty vision, but it looks like your newly befriended companions were going through this too in various states of pain.

After a few seconds, the out of body experience ended. You know immediately that trying to get up quickly will kick you in the ass right after.

You good, buddy?

Peachy.

Figured.

When you patted around and found your phone, you couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of new cracks branching over your screen.

”Son of a bitch…” You couldn't help but swear out. ”You know what? This would be better if I did this at my place, yeah?” Digging your hands into your face you inhale, waited, and exhale slowly. When you looked up, they were still staring at you with concerned eyes. “What? It’s my first week on the job, can you give me some slack?”

While you knew your aunt was a few hours away somewhere upstate you couldn’t help but pray that she doesn’t decide to come back home in the darkness of the night. If Penn Station was closer, maybe you could’ve caused some delays on the Amtrak. Didn’t help that you now have guests sheltering in your apartment clearly not built for four heroes of various sizes that had to get inside through the window. You hope no one in the next building over calls the police. You all even put a tarp over SP//dr, much to the dismay of the robot, to make sure it doesn’t end up on your social media timeline later on. At least Mr. Davis wasn’t there when you unlocked the door manually.

“It’s nothing much, but it’s the best I can do. Make yourself at home.” You didn’t need to say that twice. Almost instantly they go around poking and observing whatever they can. “Can I...get any of you something to drink?”

“An egg cream for me.”

“I’ll take some juice, please!”

“Rum and coke. Shaken, not stirred.”

You have no idea what an egg creme is, there’s only vegetable juice in the fridge, and there’s certainly no alcohol in this apartment. You’ll make it work somehow.

Keyword: somehow.

Do pig-spiders even need to get drunk in the first place? According to Google, egg cream is just a fancy way of saying milkshake. How old are these people exactly?

#spiderverse #spidersona #x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse & reader #spiderman into the spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x reader #venom x reader #venom & reader #venom symbiote x reader #venom symbiote/reader #venom/reader #reader insert #my writing #friends like you and us

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chrisrainicorn · 6 years ago

Note

I saw that post you reblogged about fake dating fics and it made me think. Concept: because of the Vytal Festival a dude from Sanctum that Pyrrha kinda dated is around Beacon. Jaune sees her immediate discomfort around him and steps up as fake boyfriend

Omg anon do you like.. read minds??? Because my next fic is going to be a fake dating AU and for one second I thought your ask was about it, but the only person who knows I’m writing that is an irl friend of mine?? sjfhkdjh

Unfortunately, it doesn’t line up with your prompt, and I headcanon that Pyrrha never dated before Beacon. Like she said, it was almost impossible for her to form meaningful relationships with anyone, so her childhood/early teenage years were probably pretty lonely, just full of training and tournaments.

But if I had to do something with what you suggested, it would be probably something like this:

The guy would suddenly appear at the Vytal Festival. Pyrrha would be very taken aback as he crossed paths with her and Jaune around the fairgrounds. A very awkward conversation ensues. The fake boyfriend thing would probably be a very hasty idea that came forth as she introduced the two boys to each other.

The guy would probably be like “Oh! Ok! Right! Good! I’m happy for u. I’ll just… leave now… Happy Vytal Festival!” and skedaddle out because the awkwardness levels would be already through the roof. (I don’t see the guy being an aggressive type to insist with unwanted advances, because really, who would mess with Pyrrha Hecking Nikos? And because we know that she’s attracted by dumbasses only I believe it wouldn’t be like her to date a guy like that).

She would immediately fill Jaune with thousands of apologies, and he would just brush them off because it was fine, he understood, and it was over already, don't’ worry about it.

But it wasn’t indeed over. They kept bumping into the dude since well, he is there at Beacon for the Festival, a Festival that goes on for days. And he’s probably accompanied by other Sanctum students that also know Pyrrha and commented to them about her new boyfriend.

So they have to pretend they are dating just a bit longer (and hey, it’s a bit easier to act like a couple than they expected). But, you know, the Festival is crawling with people, reporters, cameras… so the news spreads like wildfire, and in a blink of an eye, everyone really believes they are dating for real.

It turns into an overwhelming mess! Now there are people receiving money from bets, people congratulating them, and people feeling utterly betrayed because how dare you guys to hide from your friends that you were dating?!??

So, yeah, they can’t keep the secret from their team, especially not from Nora, and their other close friends. That results in a lot of speeches full of denials of feelings. And they end up denying a bit too vigorously. No, it was fake, it’s not like that, we aren’t an actual thing and probably will never be.

And then feelings were hurt. They were both taking their roles a little too seriously, even if unintentionally. Jaune, who had enjoyed being part of that scheme a lot more than he had expected, and being someone with low self-esteem felt really upset and extremely conflicted by Pyrrha’s denials. And Pyrrha, who had true feelings for her partner for so long, just realized that she truly would never have a chance after his own denials.

There was one more day of Festival to go through though. They tried, but the awkwardness, repressed resentment and feelings were a bit too much for them to handle, frustrating their attempt and making them call the day earlier.

Now they were the only people at the dorms, avoiding more awkward moments and pressure from the people who still believed they were dating by avoiding each other, while everyone was out enjoying the last day of the festival.

And it was bad an felt so wrong. Because they were each other’s best friend and they were always together, so neither of them was happy with this situation but both were too stubborn to do something about it.

Until the night fell, the firework show that marked the end of the Festival was happening and they simultaneously decided to go to the roof to watch, without knowing that the other had the same idea.

They met there. After a lot of insistence from Pyrrha’s part that Jaune didn’t need to find someplace else and that he could stay, they settled down to watch the fireworks together. It was extremely awkward at first, but it soon faded after some time, after all, conversation with the other half of the partnership was always so easy.

At some point, the subject they were avoiding inevitably came to light. They talked, Pyrrha wanting to apologize for what she said before and fix the situation because that was not what she meant, ends up confessing accidentally and Jaune is completely dumbfounded.

And completely overjoyed. He asks her if she really meant it, and she has to assure him that yes, she does, and he’s a flustered mess yet he manages one more question… if she wants to start over.

And, yes she does.

Ooooo I spent a lot more time than I expected thinking about this and typing it up dkghdsg but that was what I could come up with… the guy from Sanctum wouldn’t be the core of the mess, just a startup for the actual conflict (maybe because I’m extremely picky with oc’s sdgjh).

Now I have my actual fake dating fic to work on! Pretty sure nothing here will coincide with it. (And I actually still have to ask permission for someone to use an idea of theirs on it and I’m procrastinating lmao)

#arkos #rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #jaune x pyrrha #oof this big #fake dating #answered

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our-inspire-verse · 3 years ago

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🐣 🍊 ☎️

🐣 - what's a fun fact about the system?

Lets see, idk the idea of a system is fun to me so i need to think of an actually interesting thing lol. Oh heres one. I created Jack with basically my mental bare hands. I would listen to this cd every night and i still dont know what song it was, but i REALLY need to know, and i cant figure out the instrument it just sounded really magical. I would lay there every night and picture a wolf pup being created in a bubble in space. I pictured very carefully his face and paws and organs and whole body. Every night just going back and working on him like a clay sculpture. Come to find out almost 2 decades later (that fucken long. Maybe 15 years or so?) He is an alter that holds on to trauma from that age range.

🍊 - are there any relationships in the system?

Definitely! Mostly just the one, Mitten happens to be so seperated from everyone else we can only just recently attach her to our perception of "me". So i fell in love with her in middle school and in i think 8th grade i had a wedding with her innerworld. That was back when our host was Kiba, so she's married to him by innerworld law💜 its kind of platonic in the way that we know she is still i me we whatever, it feels odd to her to have a fully romantic thing so she prefers to have a sort of soul bond thing.

☎️ - is anyone/who is near the front right now?

I think Kiba got triggered out thinking about the wedding stuff, but Mitten is still sleeping or whatever. She uses up a lot of personal energy fronting bc she is just THAT much. But howdy heyy

Someone else was in front when we first reblogged this and were checking, but they skedaddled lol.

#system babbles #asks #ask game #answers #ty friend for the ask uwu

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sootonthecarpet · 5 years ago

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if it's not too much trouble to answer, can I ask what's been the going on with doctor who that's bad? I've seen little bits of it when my parents watch it in the other room but not enough to really get a good sense of it?

heyyy sorry to keep ya waiting on this. i tried to keep this as short as i could, but it’s about five paragraphs long, sorry. it’s not in any way a comprehensive list of problems with the last few seasons, just a quick tour of the moments i shouldve let be my ‘i can’t keep watching after this’ point. i wanted to write it objectively but i got pretty aggro, bc this show that in some part i genuinely adore has been producing unforgivably bigoted content. (it’s kinda a ship of theseus situation, except where the parts of the ship were replaced with worse, shittier, fake-woke parts.) i ask ppl to avoid reblogging this, because i don’t want my words to contribute in any way to online buzz surrounding this show or make anyone want to see it, even if ONLY to hatewatch or criticize.

content warning for misogynoir/antiblackness, racism, bury ur gays, some shit with nazi germany (yeah lol) and just the slightest kiss of antisemitism.

(edit: i seem to be having some problems with the read more cut. it’s there on dash view and when i edit the post, but doesn’t show on some instances of my blog. i can’t fix this but gksfkgls. wanted to at least be overt that i wouldn’t post this kinda long ranty stuff without a cut.)

in the last season where peter capaldi was the doctor, two seasons ago now, he had a new companion, Bill. she was a black lesbian and literally the only reason i started watching doctor who again. i loved her, and i was really glad to see the show moving back towards the more diverse cast of characters that we saw in the late aughts. then the season had a repeated theme of FORCING her to either repress or not feel her emotions. there are two scenes that stand out most to me. in an ep set in like, early 19th century london, she and the doctor are talking to a racist rich white dude who is being super nasty to Bill. the doctor keeps telling her to cool it and not show how angry she is. then HE gets to punch the guy out and knock him to the floor.

this theme of the white man being the only one allowed to get angry was big all season, iirc. then at the end of the season, Bill is turned into a cyberman. they’re usually like. soulless scary automatons, but some characters keep their individuality, which has been explored in a few past seasons, usually leading up to a tragic/heroic death. in Bill’s case, they did this trick with filming where we could see her perspective of herself in some shots–an intensely emotional performance, Bill was completely traumatized and her actress was working her ass off–and in others, just this metal body incapable of expression, scaring people like she was a monster and monotoning these otherwise very emotional statements. it’s an interesting narrative device, but after a whole season of this show putting Bill through all kinds of terrible shit and forcing her not to show her feelings on the matter, it hit me as like. this nauseating exaggeration of how society treats actual black lesbians as monsters and tries to make them bottle up their emotions and especially their justifiable anger. anyway, then Bill died and got to be with her dead girlfriend from her first episode. wow, cool.

idk what made me watch the season after that. i guess i wanted to see the new doctor, and i liked her companions (one was like. a young man with disabling neurological symptoms, tbh even if i’d missed Bill’s season that might have had me back on board). i had plenty of problems with how the season played out, obvs, but nothing was standout horrible to me the way the shit with Bill had been (except maybe the episode that started out like ‘space amazon is a hellhole’ and somehow ended with ‘space amazon was taken advantage of by a broken AI that hurt some people and they didnt fix the infrastructure we explicitly showed harmed their workers but now it’s fine!’ if that sounds weird and heavy handed with an unsatisfying ending, it’s because it was). the new season tho? the OPENING EPISODES OF THE NEW SEASON, THO? it opens with alexa product placement, in an episode about how a fictionalized google was actually run by a black man who had ties to a large number of aliens who had secretly infiltrated our society, altered our dna, and shit like that. so uh, 1. brand war lmao, sellouts etc etc 2. y’all remember those conspiracy theories about jews? and white supremacist beliefs that black people are ruining the world but aren’t smart enough to do it on their own so they must be agents of jewish corruption? HUH. HUH! that’s not even my big problem with the fuckin thing, but it’s FOR SURE a suspicious writing move from a tv show with suuuuch a huge viewership. (and it’s just plain embarrassing for a show with alexa product placement to try to go all scary panopticon tropes specifically @ a google analogue.)

anyway, we run into an old recurring antagonist, the master, a time lord like the doctor. he’s a guy again after having been a woman for a few seasons, and now played by an actor of color. i figure the reasoning at least partly relied on “dude, how fucked up will it be if we force the doctor’s black friend to call a white dude master” but i was immediately afraid it might go to the like…. Righteous White Woman Gets The Better Of Evil Brown Man tropes and oh boy!!!! i tried to be good and give it the benefit of the doubt until i saw something racist but it wasted no time. the doctor got stuck in the past at one point, and met the master, who was currently a military official with the third reich. oh boy. so she asks him why they let him work with them and he explains he’s using a device to psychically disguise himself, they see him as white. (we missed a great chance for him to monologue about how they were willing to bend their morals when they saw how evil he could get or something.) this was awkward enough for me as a viewer, but i wasn’t prepared to go into it, in case there was some tiny shred of nuance somewhere that would make this situation anything but a clusterfuck.

well, the doctor executes a genuinely clever scheme and makes a radio transmission to the brits that she knows won’t reach em, talking about how helpful this officer has been–setting up the master to be falsely outed as a double agent when the nazis intercept it. she tells the master this and then skedaddles, letting him be arrested by his own men. could be a satisfying karmic victory where he presumably gets a military trial and weasels out of his fate, although i don’t like the implications of a white woman punishing a brown man for racism. BUT IT DIDN’T STOP THERE! she disables his psychic filter, causing his men to see his true identity as a man of color–she exposes her oldest frenemy and Basically The Only Time Lord Who’ll Talk To Her to nazi racism when he was ALREADY about to fall into their hands as a prisoner. what could have been a marginally satisfying defeat was instead a kind of emotional horrorshow for me as i had to stop and wonder what kind of hell they’d put him through and why the writers decided that the doctor (who has literally since the show began in like the sixties been set up as an enemy of naziism via allegory and has always been firm in the idea that NOBODY, including literal maneating space monsters, deserves to be treated as less than human) would DO that. IT’S LATER IMPLIED HE ESCAPED FROM A CONCENTRATION CAMP. the narrative DOES NOT allow time for that to sink in before moving on.

i dont have a conclusion 2 this. im just hurt as fuck about it. i hope i gave u the info u were looking for without getting too deep into my personal feelings, but it’s difficult, maybe impossible to be objective about stuff like this.

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vampiresandsistersihaveascheme · 7 years ago

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This whole thread gave me a fucking migraine. Like every fucking step of this thread just kicked it up a level. I pretty much never do writing from this url but I don't reblog people encouraging suicide on my others so here we fucking go.

I never went to court, any panel, never had a point where me and the person I hurt actually confirmed we were telling the same story. A lot went fucking wrong around all that and I think it was made worse *only* by the series of escalations and refusals to communicate that both me and the other person made. "Establishing communication is often the first burden of the accused." This is all neither here nor there.

Of course Nick Robinson is fucking human. Other animals don't hide their crimes. Having been in what I imagine is a similar situation but magnitudes smaller, I can tell you the first thing to do in a situation like this is confess to the relevant people. That doesn't mean publicly, it just means to those who actually need to know. I've a minimum of sympathy for another charming man hurting women. Maybe he has confessed. Who knows.

What if he did nothing? I'm not saying this as a real hypothetical because that would require him to be the subject of a fucking witch hunt, with the number of people who seem to be claiming knowledge. This is a useless question. He didn't do nothing we just don't know how much something he did.

I won't knock OP for self-flagellating. People want to see guilt but then as soon as you show them guilt they can turn it on you. How dare you show so much remorse.

I think it's an important perspective to see. I wouldn't want this post deleted. Whether someone agrees with the OP in any way or not, we do have a right to express our stories, our sympathies, our views. This isn't hate speech, it's just something I think is wrong. At least we get to see how people think. If we never see the other side of our thoughts talk, we can end up defining ourselves as opposed to the wrong ways of thinking. Put simply: know thy enemy.

Whether OP skedaddles or not I don't care. Everyone can just make new URLs at minimal loss. Displaying mob mentality towards someone who claims to have changed makes me sick.

Telling OP to kill themselves is so childish and fucking stupid I actually wrote this entire fucking thing just because of it. What a blinkered idiot you must be. Is vengeance for the loss of purity of your fan idol so important as to wish suicide on a bystander or their family? I hope you don't live in my country, you miserable, cruel, wreck of soul.

And as for Darren, you make some assumptions that I think are uncalled for and unnecessary. As someone who stood by me through a dark, dark time, I'm disappointed now. You know better and you know you know better and just blowing off steam online isn't just blowing off steam online and you know that as well. Obviously OP isn't deserving of sympathy, but I have the privilege of seeing the prior comments you must have seen before leaving yours at the end of this ugly chain. Ugh. I'll be in touch because I'd just be making the same mistakes as everyone else if I put all this in unilateral writing.

But to the previous comments, especially symmatraismygf, fuck off. You do nothing helpful like this. If this shit finds time to roll back uphill and explode in my face at least I'll have something interesting to do tomorrow.

Ok. You know what? I need to say it. Unfollow me, call me out, whatever I don’t care. I need to come out and say it.

This whole discourse with Nick Robinson is traumatizing me more than it is for a lot of you because not only did I find a lot of his content with Griffin comforting and genuinely enjoyable, but because

Nick and I are the same.

About 2 years ago, I had to go to court for indecent assault. Yeah. There it is. I, too, was a predator. What makes me and Nick the same is that I used my charming(?) personality and whatever to get close to one of my female friends and then when we were alone I groped her. Obviously Nick is doing something different but the main point is that we both posed as Charming Soft Boys to get close to women and harass them.

Now, I can’t say this for certain, but from my experiences, Nick probably isn’t gloating and smoking a cigar as all of you seem to like to think. This is probably tearing him apart. It did to me. I thought that I’d never be a good person again. I thought that I could never do anything good ever again because I ruined myself so early in my life.

Skipping all the boring legal shit, I was sentenced to 6 months of probation and 24 hours of community service. Complain all you want about how I deserve to be crucified and eaten by buzzards for it, but my judge was a woman herself and my psychologist said I expressed “genuine guilt.”

I did. I felt so sorry for what I did and the victim and her family. I wanted to go to them and personally apologize for the horrible action I had done. But I knew that I couldn’t. I thought I was done. I wanted to kill myself. Even after it was all over, I was afraid to be close to or even LOOK at women. Every time I did, it triggered awful memories of what I’d done. I never told my close female friends. I distanced myself not just from them, but all my friends. From everyone. I shouldn’t have been allowed to associate with other humans, right? Because I’m so disgusting. I was scum.

Now it’s been two years and I’d say I’ve changed. I’m still a huge advocate for women’s rights and for the LGBTQ community, and I feel so much sorrow for all the women Nick has supposedly harassed. But I also feel for Nick.

Because no matter what you say, he’s still human. Just like me. Just like you.

I’m not saying I don’t believe the women involved. It’s clear there is SOMETHING going on, and I’d sooner believe a SUPPOSED victim than a SUPPOSED predator. What I’m saying is that I’m sympathizing with Nick as well because I know what he’s going through. Unfortunately for me, what I had done was true.

But until more sound evidence comes up, I’m finding it hard to take a more definitive stance. As of right now, I will still listen to CGI, I will still watch Car Boys, I will still watch Touch the Skyrim. But it’s going to be hard, knowing what’s going on.

I stand with the women involved and not Nick, but I feel for him. He’s still a human. He’s just like me. So I can’t help but sympathize with him.

As for all the political discourse involving the entire gaming industry, I have nothing real substantial to say. The gaming industry needs to stop being sexist, stop objectifying women, and stop marginalizing women who work in the industry. That’s the bottom line.

My heart goes out to everyone affected by this. It’s truly a trying time for us all, but we need to stay strong and wait for more evidence to start crucifying Nick. He’s still human.

As for me? I’m going to continue doing what I do. I feel like I’ve changed, but if you still want to crucify me, I don’t care. But don’t you DARE take anything I’ve said out of context. Or else you’re just as bad as these women who might be blowing a bunch of hot air. I’m not saying they are, but you should get my point.

Peace out my dudes. Feel free to DM me if you want to talk about all this.

~Kam

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peaceofpuregold-blog · 7 years ago

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GUNS & SHIT (part dos)

OK, so this is the super important one, previous one was just about where I was coming from as the child of a cop and what I was taught from him.

As in the one that might need a boost/reblog if you find it helpful.

I'm going to go over what's the best civilian protocol to an Active Shooter scenario that I was at least taught (police and military personnel are welcome to tag or DM me with additional tips and tricks and I will edit this post) with accommodations and ideas for folks with disabilities. I will also go over tips on how to otherwise increase your chances of survival and avoiding injury ahead of time in case you find yourselves in such a situation in the next part (with assistance from my other parent, who happens to be a nurse and was initially a trauma one at that).

Unfortunately in our current political climate and the past political climate of the past few decades... it is in our best interests to know how to help ourselves and each other until a LOT of shit changes.

Keep in mind, this post is made with one shooter in mind. I'd have to do more research to see what ought to be different for a multiple shooters scenario if there’s enough interest.

Cut for length... Super length. You've been warned... And be warned there’s a LOT of cursing. It’s my way of adding a bit of levity, and it’s how I just write/talk.

First, let us go over the three legs on which this wobbly table stands: Run, Hide, Fight.

These are the three core principles of how to survive an Active Shooter. They are not to be adhered to in that specific order, you choose which to do based on what is most appropriate at the time. Do NOT fall for the linear thinking of taking these steps the order in which it is written, this is a common misconception that seems to occur when people are trained what to do as civilians in an Active Shooter situation in schools and office buildings.

1. Run: Drop yo shit (don't worry about taking things with you, your life and those of others are more important than material objects) and fuckin' GO. Keep as quiet as possible, no shoutin' or screaming. If there are not emergency personnel at the scene already call 911 once you are in a safe place. Give them your address and say there is at least one active shooter there. Stay on the line, they will have further questions, and answer as honestly as possible, do your best not to make assumptions. If you don't know for sure say, “I don't know.” If you are in charge of a small group of children, go over with all of them what to do; when I say run, YOU BEST FOLLOW AND RUN. This step may be combined also with the others I will mention further on.

These are the times when you should start running.

a. You hear the sounds of gunfire in the distance; oy, run in the opposite direction.

b. You know the layout and exit plans of the facility you're in and you are certain they are a short ways away and have not seen the shooter.

c. You have clear exit routes, like say when you're outside like the recent Las Vegas shooting; there are some caveats to this which will be covered in the “Hide” section.

d. Emergency personnel are already on the scene directing you to do so. Please keep hands clear. Do NOT fucking grab a hold of them or touch them or scream in their face. This just makes it harder for them to do their job and ablility to help more people to evacuate more quickly.

e. Some things to consider for folks with disabilities:

i. For the deaf, look for a shit ton of people running in the same direction or scattering, and possibly for flickering lights and see who is doing it. Why? Because... For those who aren't deaf but know someone who is in your vicinity, if you're across the room from them and are out of reach of tapping them on the shoulder, flick the lights on and off quickly a few times. Folks will usually quickly turn to see what's the source of this. If you don't know ASL, motion for them to follow you and say it without sound (some can lip-read, and the quieter you are the better) “follow me and run,” and start runnin'.

ii. For the blind, trust yourself if you think you hear gunshots and go to the nearest exit as quickly as possible. If you are the one leading them or giving other assistance, give them a quick head's up that you're running to the nearest exit and do so. Keep in mind and respect the fact that they may actually be the one giving YOU a head's up on the situation. If they say ya'll should go or “I've got a bad feeling about this...” Star Wars style, respect that shit and roll out.

iii. For those with mobility disabilities or a temporary condition, keep in mind that this is a life or death situation. Normally someone might ask permission to assist (if they know any better) but, BOI YOU AIN'T GOT TIME FOR THAT. If someone is trying to help you that may be unaware as to how to help you best, do your best to explain to who ever is trying to help the best way to assist you and then skedaddle as quickly and quietly as possible along. If you are in a wheelchair, don't be surprised if your chair suddenly takes a life of it's own at MACH 5 after hearing shots or a hell of a lot of screaming. Folks can apologize later and say that they would have otherwise respected your agency and did not intend for this to be in any way an act of ableism or other form of discrimination. [In this situation this is the best course of action I can think of for those in manual wheelchairs and use other mobility aides to prevent death and injury after consulting with some wheelchair bound folks I work with, but I can totally understand that this may be a hot topic or something I might get some blow-back on. I honestly would not mind and welcome it. Please comment and reblog with what ya'll think on the subject. I've only had to use a wheelchair for a short time, and other mobility aides just slightly longer than that. It could be that I was just shit at using them at high speed (I was able to pop some sick wheelies and figure out how to get up/down stairs in odd but functional ways, though because FUCK YOU AND YOUR LACK OF ACCOMMODATIONS).] For folks who don't or never have used aides keep in mind that they may be quicker than or as quick as you (read: dem fancy ass power/electric wheelchairs), if that is the case just make sure they know where to go in an emergency.

iv. For those with processing, developmental, or sensitivity-related disabilities, something like this is best addressed ahead of time. Find a way to be able to tell folks (or for them to tell you) “We need to fuckin' GO,” in the Emergency Code Red Alert sense—maybe a bit more professionally than that if needed. Examples: for those that have a receptive and/or expressive language deficit, practice having a designated emergency “touch” cue to communicate this; if you have a tactile sensitivity, figure out what may be an appropriate cue (verbal or nonverbal); if you have auditory sensitivity... again see the blind folks note. If you aren't the one with the sensitivity, they could be notifying YOU of the situation first (maybe have an emergency phrase or cue that can be used rather than expressing discomfort or your common cues to auditory distress) rather than the other way around. For folks on the other end... Once more, respect that shit and roll out.

v. For other disabilities (like my epilepsy, and of course mental ones are included too for fuck's sake THAT SHIT'S NOT GOOD WHEN SHOTS ARE FLYIN') or a combination thereof, go over ahead of time what protocol would be best in an emergency situation where you may need to run. Talk to each other. Help each other. Know your limits.

f. There are some other things in mind that are... really sad to cover but need to be spoken about.

i. If you see a small child by themselves with no adult nearby... or a dead/nearly dead one next to them, scoop them (meaning the child) up if you are able to and run.

ii. For larger kids, grab them by the hand and run.

iii. You can encourage other folks to follow you, especially in the case where the exit is a short ways away, but if they choose to shelter in place... that's their decision. Do not waste time trying to convince them if they refuse.

...WELL THAT WAS LOVELY, SHALL WE PROCEED?

2. Hide: shelter in place, once again, shut the fuck up. Generally you hunker down in a room, lock the door, move heavy shit (like an office copier/printer, large furniture, etc) against the door to barricade it, and stay away from said door and any windows. Silence your phone and try to at least turn down the contrast on your screen if not totally turn the screen off. If you feel safe enough, do dial 911, but don't talk! If they don't hear you talking after trying to engage, they might hear what's going on in your surroundings (for instance, gunshots) and may be able to ping your location the same way they find kidnapping victims or abuse victims where they can hear things happening, but don't need to speak to an actual person. If you are in charge of a small group of children, go over with all of them what to do depending on what is best practices in your facility. If you would like to, hide yourself within the room in other furniture that can fit you, but that will impede things I may talk about in step #3. Speaking of, arm yourself if you're able to do so.

These are the times you should hide.

a. You hear the gunshots really fucking close, but don't see the shooter themselves yet.

b. You are in a space where you're unfamiliar of the lay of the land (like how far away the exits are) and cannot see a posted emergency floor plan that labels the routes to the nearest exits clearly, so find the first room you can if you are not in sight of the shooter; especially if gunshots are coming from the direction you entered.

c. You are dealing with rapid-fire shots and they are descending upon you. So no clear view of the shooter, but it's hailing bullets. Again... see the Las Vegas shooting. For these situations if you cannot find a store to get into or get far enough away and out of range from by simply running the fuck away right out, run into an alleyway and get on the far side of a dumpster (NOT IN IT), or if there are chunks of decorative concrete that happen to be about (hey, some places have random pillars or fancy raised flower beds strewn up and down the street and shit) duck as quickly as you can and take shelter behind them. Concrete is your friend. Steel is your buddy.

d. You are in a large space like a concert hall, so the shooter will have trouble keeping track of all of you, so you run so that you are out of the large space and find a room (preferably) if you're not familiar enough to know where the emergency exits are quickly (which isn't often unless you've been to the venue on several occasions and/or the venue is shit at making that obvious). Dropping quick to the floor if there are things that will hide you from the shooter, like them fancy concert chairs with steel backs and bases, is also an option if you’re pretty near the shooter.

e. If there are cops on the scene and they direct you to shelter in place. This may happen if there are several shooters involved on the scene and they all haven’t been neutralized yet. Once again, keep hands clear, and please don't touch, yell at, or grab them. You may also be told to shelter in place via text at school or a campus-wide alert. Especially, if they state the building where the shooter is and you are anywhere near it STAY THE FUCK PUT. Even if you are not anywhere near the building where the activity may be happening, most campuses have lock-down procedures; please don't hinder anyone trying to carry them out and listen to the directions staff may tell you.

f. For folks with disabilities

i. For the deaf, same thing as before, remember flicky light thing, etc. For those who aren't deaf and you don't know ASL, gesture to be quiet (first finger finger put vertically to the mouth is pretty dang universal) and ask for help moving shit if necessary and position themselves appropriately. Mouth the commands silently as well.

ii. For the blind, do your best, but be warned someone on the other side of the veil might take initiative here. For those on said other side, quickly and quietly let them know what you're doing, and again respect the fact that they may be giving you the head's up instead of the other way around. Move them into a safe position once everything has been blocked off.

iii. For those with mobility based disabilities, BOI LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH A POWERCHAIR WEIGHS (150 all the way up to nearly 400 lbs last I checked for the heavy-duty ones). They can often be the best barricades you'll find in a room, period. You best fuckin' HOPE you have an individual awesome enough to be an owner of such an item if you are not already the fabulous personage in possession of one. Other mobility aides (or parts from them) are fanfuckingtastic at also jamming doors shut. If you are not the owner of these aides and find yourself in a room with folks who are, bring this up to them and ask not only if they are comfortable relinquishing their devices, but how they would prefer to be moved if ya'll need to book it later. Sharing is caring.

iv. For those folks previously covered under 1E4 and 1E5of this lengthy ass post. Just adjust as needed for the “hide” command instead of “run”.

e. See section 1F, exchange “hide” for “run”... I might cry if you make me go point by point again.

3. FIGHT: Do I need to elaborate as to what the heck I mean by this? Please remember, this is not always the last option, sometimes it is your FIRST (often only if that's the case... but not always) option. Keep in mind that there's strength in numbers, and if you fight, you need to COMMIT. Do NOT hesitate. Go full force. Unleash the beast. IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME. The police and the military are not the only people who are allowed to use force for self defense. I may do another series on this later.

Uncommon weapons include fire extinguishes (honestly the best ones, and probably my personal favorite), office supplies, and mobility aides. Anything heavy and/or with good bludgeoning potential. Naturally, fists and other bits are good for fighting as well. This bit will be shorter... Hopefully. I will admit this will be more successful with one shooter, but hey... it's worth a try.

Times you need to fight.

a. The shooter is right near you (read: within swingin' distance) and you see them start to swing up what will probably be an assault weapon (unless our government and/or our culture DRASTICALLY changes it's shit) at yourself or a group of people with no provocation (I swear, this is probably the only country where I have to go on to “no provocation” instead of ending at “assault weapon” BECAUSE GUESS WHAT FUCKING COUNTRY WHERE IN SEVERAL STATES YOU GET TO OWN SUCH SHIT AS A CIVILIAN, IN FUCKING PUBLIC, AND COULD BE CHARGED WITH ASSAULT IF YOU PHYSICALLY THROW HANDS BECAUSE YOU'RE “INFRIGINING ON MY SECOND AMENDEMENT RIGHTS/GODGIVEN RIGHT TO OWN A GUN”... I'm not sorry for the tangent there... fucking fight me). Don't bother to run and/or hide. If you run away, you'll get a bullet in your back. If you hide when they can fucking see you do it... guess where they're going to go first once they mow down people in the general vicinity. The best you can do not only for yourself and everyone else is to clock this ass in the head and/or body or tackle the mother fucker. Even if you end up dying in the attempt, your distraction may give more folks time to save themselves by using the aforementioned steps, and if you incapacitate them so they are laid out long enough, by the time they've recovered the popo might be on their way to neutralize them.

b. You are near-ish to the shooter (read: short walking distance) from said shooter and they have not taken you out yet. BULL RUSH THIS FOOL. If someone took initiative to commit to 3A, you might have a good chance of legit subduing them. Again there is strength in numbers, especially if there's only one shooter. They can only aim in so many directions at once (read: one).

c. You are hiding and they are able to get the door open. If you had to hide while you heard shots, as I mentioned, make sure as soon as you do your best at barricading yourself in there, silently arm yourself, the position yourself to be against the wall where the door is placed. This will give you an extra moment to ambush them as you will not be in immediate sight when they first open the door. Here you will have more time to find weapons. If there is more than one fire extinguisher, use one to spray them in the fucking eyes and the other to bash. If there are folding chairs, fold them and pretend the shooter is Mick Foley... or Chris Benoit. Take your pick. Monitors, laptop computers, and other office supplies are good, too. For those in class, unless instructed otherwise, in high school and above I would suggest finding something, too. I have not seen anything more scary than a teenager angered to the point of physical violence. USE THAT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE.

d. For my disability community folks, mobility aides are fucking awesome. Oxygen tanks are fucking amazing. You have more power in this situation than most folks do. YOU. ARE. ALREADY. ARMED. And for all of my folks with disabilities, I cannot stress enough how important it is to take a self-defense class. We are seen as a vulnerable population and assholes of the armed and unarmed variety will take advantage of this.

Let's show them we're not.

Some special notes: unless you are an expert professional at restraining folks while they are able to fight back, do not attempt to do so until they are unbefuckingconscious and the gun(s) are well away from their person. Stay with them until help arrives. If they come to, kick them and/or use your mobility device/any other weapon you managed to get your hands on to bludgeon them in the head.

If you happen to kill them at any point during this... Whoops.

When the help does arrive be warned you will be probably asked (in a very loud and terrifying fashion) to lie face-down on the ground with your arms spread, or whatever position they ask you to do. Keep your hands clear of anything if at all possible. If you cannot comply (get on the ground, put your hands above your head, etc due to your disability) do your best and say you are doing so. You may be even taken out in zip-ties or cuffs. Keep your cool, be as compliant as possible. Shit will be sorted out later.

Please remember, you are doing this not to be a hero. You are doing this to save yourself. You are taking action, regardless of your condition(s), to increase your chances of survival, to not be a statistic, to not be a victim. Helping those around you is just a lovely side-effect.

#active shooter scenario #self defense for those with disabilities #guns and shit #cursing tw #death tw #violence tw #guns tw

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